


It Begins In Mystery

by Everlark_Pearl



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everlark_Pearl/pseuds/Everlark_Pearl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Day AU. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark's friendship takes a sudden turn down a road they weren't expecting while working on homework together one afternoon. Is it possible to pinpoint the moment when a friendship becomes more, or will it always remain a mystery? What other secrets will it reveal along the way?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr: mellarksloaves. Thank you for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to for-prim for beta'ing this first chapter for me!

“We’re never going to make it out of junior year if we keep doing this,” I say to Katniss. She’s sifting through a bowl of old cookies my parents brought home from the bakery, ignoring me.

“Are there any more peanut butter cookies?” She asks.

“Dumb and Dumber ate the last of them this morning,” I tell her, pulling the bowl away and setting it in the middle of the table where our school books are set out. I open to the pages we’re supposed to be studying. “Can we please get to work? I don’t want to be up until midnight finishing my homework again.” I grab my Trig book and throw it on the floor between us.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do homework together anymore if this is what happens,” Katniss suggests. “We never get it all done before I have to go home.”

“That’d be even worse,” I reply. “We just have to focus on finishing the work before we reward ourselves with cookies and TV.”

“But it’s Big Cat Week on Nat Geo Wild,” Katniss gripes.

“You hate cats.”

“No…” Katniss laughs and shakes her head. “I hate Prim’s cat, not all cats.”

“Let’s finish this and then we can watch TV until you have to go home,” I reason.

“How about we watch one show, then we start the homework?” Katniss counters, picking the book up from the floor and setting it in her lap. She mimics my position on the floor – back propped against the coffee table, legs stretched out in front of her. She drums on the top of my book, waiting for my answer. “Come on, Peeta,” she hums, begging.

It’s like she knows just how to get to me, though it never takes much for her to get her own way. Sit close, smile at me -- distract me from what we’re really supposed to be doing. It’s even worse if she touches me. She doesn’t know what her presence does to me, and she can never find out. I value her friendship too much to ruin it by having a crush on her.

She delivers her final blow when she leans to the side and pushes me with her shoulder, coaxing me to agree to watch TV instead of working on homework, her touch sends a line of heat from my shoulder down to my stomach.

“Fine,” I agree, exasperated. “ _One_ show!”

She flashes me a satisfied smile and pulls my Trig book from her lap, setting it back down on the coffee table while I switch the channel. The show has already started, and I smile to myself, knowing that we agreed to only watch one show and this one is already half over.

Katniss sits back down next to me in the same position, hands in her lap while she looks straight at the TV. I steal a glance at her and notice the way her eyebrows are raised in interest just slightly, and that even though her mouth is pulled up into a small smirk, it still looks relaxed. When I look back to the TV, I don’t like what I see.

“Oh come on!” I shout, angrily. “That damn lion is eating the hyena!”

“Nature, Peeta,” Katniss says teasingly, patting my knee. “Lions have to eat too, you know, that’s just the circle of life.”

“Yeah,” I nod, smirking. “And so is that.” I point to the TV where the scene has abruptly changed from a male lion eating a hyena, to the same lion mounting a female. Katniss laughs at the scene and shakes her head.

“She doesn’t look very pleased with her situation,” Katniss says, tilting her head and squinting. “I don’t think I’d be very pleased either if someone just hopped on my back and stuck it in. It’s not very romantic.”

“Stop,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. She can’t talk about this right now. Not when she’s this close.

“Do you think the females even come?” She leans over and pushes her shoulder into mine again and laughs at my gasp.

“Katniss!” I shout, horrified.

“Well it’s a valid question, Peeta,” she points out. “Is there even time for her to get off?”

“Why are you even thinking about this?” She has to stop talking. I can feel my pants growing tighter with every word that comes out of her mouth.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I just wonder if she gets any pleasure out of it, because it doesn’t seem like she does.”

“Most animals don’t mate for pleasure,” I remind her. Steering the conversation away from the pleasurable aspects of sex is doing nothing to stop me from getting hard, and I take a deep breath, shifting my right leg up to try to hide the bulge that is forming.

“Well, that’s shitty.” She crosses her arms and falls silent, bringing her eyes back up to the television, but by then it’s too late for me. She can’t see me like this. What kind of guy gets a woody over lions mating?

But I know it wasn’t the lions, it was her. It was what she was saying, and the way her shoulder kept brushing mine while she said it. I’m pathetic.

We continue watching the show in silence. Katniss seems enthralled, so I take advantage of the moment and shift again, pulling the front of my sweatpants away from me in attempts to hide the erection that doesn’t show any signs of subsiding.

“What the hell, Peeta?!” Katniss shouts, causing me to jump. I pull my hand away quickly and look at her, only to find her eyes trained right on my dick. She has a smile on her face, but it doesn’t look particularly happy – it looks more like she’s trying to hold back a laugh. “Do you have a boner?”

I don’t know what to say. I wish she would have just pretended not to notice and spared me the mortification right now, but our friendship doesn’t work that way. We take any opportunity to embarrass one another, and today, Katniss seems to have to upper hand. The only thing I can do is look away.

“Jesus, Peeta, we were barely touching,” she says. She doesn’t sound like she wants to laugh anymore, but there’s something in her voice that isn’t familiar. “Look, I like you and everything, I don’t…”

“Who said, it was because of you?” I scoff. “Stop being so arrogant.” Of course it’s because of her, but I know what the end of that sentence was going to be. She likes me, but she doesn’t _like me, like me_. What the hell does that mean, anyway?

“So you don’t think I’m boner material then?” Katniss asks. _Boner material?_ I want to ask her what that is supposed to mean, too, but she sounded so offended that I can’t help but stare at her, dumbfounded. “So you don’t, then,” she says. It’s not a question, but a statement.

“I didn’t say that,” I reply quickly. “But you’re my friend.”

“So that just automatically counts me out? You’re getting horny watching a couple of lions fucking while I’m sitting here right next to you?” She shakes her head. “I’m not sure if I should feel sorry for myself, or feel sorry for you.”

“Where is this coming from, Katniss?” I ask. I have no idea how this went from her taking advantage of my embarrassment, to her getting offended at my denial that this is because of her. Why does she even care?

She doesn’t answer. All she does is sighs and looks down, seemingly embarrassed over what she said. I don’t know what else to say, so I stay quiet until I realize this whole time she has been staring straight at my crotch.

“Stop staring at it!” I finally tell her when I can’t take the scrutiny any longer.

“Sorry,” Katniss says, finally cracking a smile. She turns her head and looks at the wall while I try to think of anything to get this erection to subside, but I know it’s no use. Not with her still here and not with the way she was staring at it.

“You don’t have to keep your head turned, just don’t stare… that weirds me out,” I lie. It doesn’t weird me out at all; it just turns me on even more.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do? Act like it’s not there?” Katniss grouses.

“I don’t know!” I yell back. She turns her head again and sighs. “I’m sorry Katniss, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” I begin to move. “You can get started on the homework; I’ll just leave the room for a little bit, all right?” I’m just about to stand up when her voice breaks the silence.

“What do you usually do?” she asks.

“I usually just think about old Miss Sae and it goes away pretty quickly,” I explain. I leave out the part about how it won’t work right now because she’s in the room and hoist myself up on my feet.

“No, I mean when you don’t want it to go away, like… when you’re alone.”

 Did she really just ask me that? All I can do is stare at her, dumbfounded. She turns to me, no longer looking at the wall to her right, and begins to speak again.

“Show me,” she requests quietly, looking down to the floor after she says it.

“Stop fucking with me, Katniss. This is embarrassing enough as it is, all right?” I make to walk past her but she stands up to meet me before I can get past her.

“I’m not,” she says, looking me right in the eye. “Fucking with you, I mean.”

“Right,” I say sarcastically, nodding. “I’ll be the idiot again and show you, then you’ll tell Madge tomorrow at school and then by lunch the entire school will know what a fool I am.”

“And I shouldn’t be worried that you won’t run and tell Finnick that I asked you to show me?” Katniss retorts, crossing her arms. “I’m just…” she purses her lips together, as though she is choosing her words very carefully. “I’m curious, that’s all.” She looks at me, clearly noticing the unconvinced expression on my face. “And I’m serious.”

I should trust her, she is my best friend, but I just can’t do it. I feel like the minute I make a move to show her she will start laughing in my face. I move to the side and brush past her, not looking back to her when she calls after me. I just need a few minutes alone to calm down, then we can do our homework, and she can go home.

I slam my bedroom door and begin to pace while I try to clear Katniss from my mind, but every time I feel like I’m getting somewhere, I just see that look on her face again when she told me she was serious. She wasn’t looking away, she wasn’t looking down – she was looking right into my eyes. Maybe she was serious. I can tell when she’s lying. She never looks into my eyes when she’s trying to lie to me, why would she start now?

Why does she want me to show her that? Does she even still want me to after the way I stormed out of the living room? Is she even still here? I’ll go back out there and see if she’s still here -- I hope she’s still here.  I hope she still wants to do this. Who knows if I’ll ever have this opportunity again? What was I thinking by walking away from her like that?

To be on the safe side, I reach between my mattress and box spring and pull out the bottle of lube I keep hidden there, shoving it into the pocket of my sweatpants before I pull the door open and walk back out to the living room.

I find Katniss sitting on the living room floor where she was sitting before this ordeal started – back against the coffee table, legs stretched out in front of her. I stand in front of her, not saying a word.

“Feeling better?” she asks, keeping her eyes glued to the TV.

“You tell me,” I reply. My response causes her to look away from the TV.

“Still?” She asks, stunned.

“I can’t concentrate on anything but what you said,” I tell her honestly. “Did you mean it?” She keeps staring at the front of my pants, but pulls her eyes away long enough to meet mine while she nods. I sit down next to her and put my hand out to her. “You have to promise me that you won’t tell _anyone_.”

“I promise,” she replies, taking my hand and giving it a shake.

“Katniss, I mean it,” I warn her. “Nobody. Not even that cat you hate.” She still has a hold on my hand and squeezes it, pulling me a little closer to her while still looking in my eyes.

“I said I promise,” she says firmly. “Now you have to promise that you won’t tell Finnick, your brothers, or the whole fucking wrestling team.”

“Of course I won’t.” I shake my head, swallowing hard. “I promise.” Katniss nods and looks back down at my pants.

“So? What do you usually do?” she asks again. I hesitate before reaching into my pocket and pulling out the bottle of lube. I hand it to her.

“Well, I like lube when I do this,” I admit. “Sometimes it hurts if I don’t use it.” She nods and hands the bottle back to me. When I reach for the waistband of my sweatpants, I see her eyes move back down. I want to ask her not to look. Let me start and she can look in a minute or two, but the look on her face stops me from asking. She looks… anxious. Ready.

 I pull my pants down slowly, lifting up to allow them to move past my ass, but leave the front covering my dick. I take a deep breath and look at Katniss. Her eyes have moved from the front of my pants down to the side of my ass that is now exposed.

“Staring at my ass?” I tease. I had to say something, anything to break this tension. Her head snaps up to meet my questioning gaze, but she doesn’t answer. She just keeps moving her eyes back and forth between my face and the grip I still have on my pants, like she’s silently asking me to keep going.  I look away and at the wall in front of me before pulling my pants down past my dick, feeling it spring forward. I exhale audibly at the feeling of relief.

“Did that feel good?” Katniss asks. Her voice is timid. I want to look at her, survey her face and see where her eyes are trained now, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off the wall.

“Yes,” I breathe, nodding and still looking forward.

“Why?” She asks, intrigued.

“The pressure,” I explain, forcing my eyes off the wall and to her face. “It starts to hurt after a while.” I think I catch her off guard when I look at her. Her eyes grow wide when she looks up into mine, and she takes a deep breath before nodding.

“What next?” she asks, turning her body in my direction.

I open the bottle of lube and pour some into my hand, looking back to her as I bring my hand to my dick, coating it from base to tip. As hard as I was trying not to, a light moan escapes from my mouth from the friction. I see Katniss’ eyes widen even more at the sound as she stares right back at me, stopping only when I break eye contact to look down at my hand gripping my erection.

I begin to run my hand up and down slowly, showing Katniss what it is that I do when I’m alone and needing relief. I bite the inside of my cheek, stifling another moan that wants to break free when I look at her. She’s sitting on her feet; head tilted, eyes downcast. Her mouth hangs open just slightly and she keeps swallowing hard, breathing out loudly each time she does.

“What do you think about when you do it?” she questions, never taking her eyes off of my dick. I can’t answer that, because every answer is the same. _You, Katniss. I think about you._

She’s asked enough questions – it’s my turn now.

“Do you touch yourself, Katniss?” I don’t stop running my hand over my dick while she contemplates whether or not she wants to answer me. I watch a whole range of emotions wash across her face – shock, fear, embarrassment, and finally, after I give myself a squeeze and finally let a fully audible moan pass my lips, she nods.

“Yes,” she says, her voice unsteady.

“Why don’t you show me too, then?” The need to change the focus from what I think about has become so strong; I’m beginning to say things I wouldn’t normally say, especially not to Katniss. But it doesn’t matter what I may be doing right now, she can’t know that I think about her when I want to get off.

To my surprise, Katniss doesn’t look offended by my request. She looks up at me, then to the clock on the wall, but not once does she look upset by what I just asked her to do. I let go of myself and wait to see what she does next.

“What time will your parents be home?” she asks.

“Not until after they close up the bakery tonight,” I tell her. “And you know my brothers don’t come home until curfew at ten.”

Katniss stares at me, her gaze so intense that it feels like her eyes are burning a hole right through me. She hasn’t refused, but she hasn’t agreed yet, either. I let go of my dick and turn to her.

“I showed you, now you show me.” I don’t know where my voice is coming from, but the fact that Katniss hasn’t slapped me yet is almost as surprising as what I’m saying.

“Are you sure nobody is going to be coming home any time soon?”

“I swear,” I answer. “But if you want, go make sure the top lock is secure. Nobody is getting in if that’s locked.” I can’t take her to my bedroom. What would that mean if I did?

She hops up off the floor quickly and practically sprints to the front door. I hear the top lock click, and soon she is back in the living room.

She stops abruptly when she re-enters the living room, standing a few feet to my left and staring as I run the tip of my finger up and down the length of my dick. I wait a minute for her to join me on the floor, but she doesn’t move. When I look over to her, she seems frozen, staring at my finger as it moves along the shaft. I nod to her, letting her know that it’s alright, and she begins to undo her jeans.

“If you tell anyone,” she begins.

“Hey,” I cut her off. “I said I wouldn’t.” She pulls the zipper down and begins to pull on the fabric, pulling them down slowly. I notice that she’s removing her panties off with her jeans and in a minute, she’s standing in front of me with nothing on below her waist, kicking her jeans off her feet.

Something inside of me snaps and I know I need to touch her. She looks so embarrassed standing there. Our friendship may revolve around embarrassing one another, but right now, I want nothing more than to make her feel safe. I reach out for her with my free hand and she takes it, allowing me to pull her closer and down, where she comes to rest on her knees at my side.

I let go of her hand and place it on her bare thigh, running my hand across the skin and feeling myself twitch. I may not be able to tell her how I feel about her, but I can at least try to show her. She closes her eyes and inhales through her nose at my touch.

“Show me,” I coax.  She nods, and with her eyes still closed she brings her hand between her legs, moving to spread them as she kneels on the carpet.

I wrap my hand around my dick again and resume the up and down motion from earlier as I stare at her hand as it rubs small circles between her legs. I almost lose it when I hear her first moan. I have to squeeze my dick so hard to calm myself even the slightest. I force my eyes away from what she’s doing to look at her face. She must sense my eyes on her, because she looks away from what I’m doing and up to my face.

“Are you… wet?” I ask. The question sounded better in my head, and now I want to take every word back.

“Getting there,” she answers, looking back down to my hand. I add a few twists to the up and down motion now, and notice that she matches it by twisting her hips and grinding on her hand.

I seem to lose myself in some sort of trance watching her as her body moves over her hand like she’s done this a million times before in her room late at night. I think about those times now. I’ve been in that room plenty of times before, but the thought of her in the bed we sit on when we do homework, using her hand to make herself wet, writhing on it like it was… me. I begin to moan while I watch her. I wonder what she thinks about. _Who_ she thinks about.

“What does it feel like?” Katniss asks suddenly, snapping me out of my trance.

“What?”

“I mean, does it feel good?” she shakes her head. “No, stupid question… of course it feels good, but… what do you feel like?”

“Well, what do you feel like? I counter.

She doesn’t answer for a minute, and then quickly takes her hand away from between her legs. I’m just about to let go of the grip I have on myself when she lifts her hand up to my eye level, rubbing her thumb over the two fingers she used, and I see them glistening.

“Want to find out?” she asks.  This time I really do let go of myself. I stare at her in awe, trying to gauge the expression on her face. She can’t be lying; she’s still looking into my eyes.

“Really?” I manage to reply. She walks even closer to me on her knees and nods.

“Go ahead,” she says.

I have no idea what to do. Do I try to copy what I watched her doing before? I inch my hand up reluctantly and move it between her legs. There is no space between us now that she’s gotten even closer, and I place my entire hand over her middle, feeling how warm it is. There is wetness on my palm, but I don’t move. I keep my hand over her and wait for her. Finally, she reaches down and grabs my wrist.

“Like this,” she says, she pushes all but two of my fingers down, pushing them up between her folds. The heat and wetness there is even more apparent and my dick twitches again at the contact. She stops guiding me and hisses inward when my fingers graze the nerve at her front. “Rub here,” she says. “In circles, like I was doing.” She lets her hand fall from my wrist and I begin to rub circles, but her hand is quickly on my wrist again. “Gently,” she tells me. “Like this.” She takes her other hand and puts two fingers to the inside of my wrist, gently rubbing circles on the skin, and I begin to mimic her pressure and movements. “Yes, just like that.” She gasps.

“You’re wet now,” I comment, enthralled, though my voice still sounds unsure.

“Yes,” Katniss moans in answer, bucking against my hand just as she was doing to herself. My fingers slip through her folds as she moves her hips.

I can feel my dick beginning to throb from the lack of attention and what I am doing to Katniss, and I take a chance at speaking again while Katniss is caught up in the moment.

“Do you want to know what I feel like?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice from breaking. She moves against my hand a few more times, and I almost forget that I even asked her a question. Her face looks so relaxed. Her eyes are closed as she rocks her hips, using her hands to hold her shirt up just enough so I can see her bellybutton peek out from under it.

“Yes,” she answers again. It’s the only word she seems able to get out right now. She opens her eyes and stops her movements, but I continue the circular rhythm that I’ve worked myself into.

Leaning over, she reaches her hand out in the direction of my dick, but stops when I haven’t given her instructions, just the way I did earlier.

“Just wrap your hand around me, like I was doing,” I re-assure her, halting my movement between her legs until she’s situated.

“Do I need lube, too?” she asks.

“Do you want some?” She shrugs her shoulders at my question and I reach to my side and grab the bottle, squeezing some into her hand. She wraps her hand around me, but doesn’t move – the lube starts to drip from her hand and down. When I gasp, she tenses. “It’s alright, your hand just feels different than mine,” I explain. “Better.” She looks at me, but doesn’t speak. “Just move your fist up and down, like I was doing before.”

She begins to slide her hand up and down, re-coating my dick with the fresh lube I poured into her hand. I can’t hold back the moans by biting my cheek anymore, and I let her hear them freely, so she knows she’s doing a good job. I resume the circular motion against her nerve and soon, her moans are also filling the room, mixing with mine and the sounds of her lube covered hand slipping over me time and time again.

“Rub faster,” she instructs, suddenly letting go of my dick. I don’t have time to protest, because she takes that same hand and clutches my wrist again, rubbing a faster pattern into my skin, along with the lube that remained on her hand. I match her movements and she begins to buck more dramatically against my hand, gripping my wrist to keep me in place, clutching hard so her wet hand doesn’t slip.

With each hard thrust she makes against my hand, my fingers slip further and further into her. They soaked now, and her breathing is getting heavier and heavier, I wonder if she is close.

“I’m going to come, Peeta,” she gasps, her breath hitching. I’ve been so busy watching my hand cover her, and the movement of her hips, the sound of her voice causes me to look up at her face. She’s completely lost right now; eyes closed, jaw clenched, and hand gripping my wrist so hard that I’m beginning to lose feeling in my hand, but I don’t stop her. I let her go, and I watch her. She doesn’t look like the Katniss I know, but more like the Katniss I dream about -- so lost in her ecstasy that she forgets for a minute that we’re only friends. I keep swirling my fingers as she rides my hand.

Her whole body tenses suddenly, and her mouth falls open, bringing with it a moan at least 3 octaves higher than her speaking voice, on the next exhale, my name falls from her lips expertly, like she’s said it during moments like this before. She falls forward, only holding herself up by placing her hand on my shoulder. Before she pushes herself up, she buries her face in my hair and I hear the sound of a light kiss against the curls.

I don’t know what to do next. I wait as she hovers over me, cheek resting on the top of my head while her breathing begins to come back to normal. My hand is still between her legs, slick with her come. Finally, she moves away and I slip my hand out from between her thighs.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, looking down at my hand, her cheeks turning red.

“Don’t apologize. That was…” she looks at me, waiting for the rest of my sentence. “That was awesome.” She begins to laugh, but still looks embarrassed, and I take my hand that is still slippery and wet and grab my dick, rubbing her all over me – she seems to notice, because I see her look up out of the corner of my eye.

“Can I?” she asks. “You did for me.”

“With your help,” I remind her, knowing damn well I never would have been able to do that without her guidance.

“Help me,” she says, suggestively.

“Hold me again, like you did before, but closer to the top,” I instruct, removing my hand and letting her smaller one replace it. “And this time, don’t move, I’ll do the rest.” She nods and sits on her legs, settling in.

I place my hands down on the floor at my side and use them to push myself up. I watch as my dick slides through her hand and back again. Between what this looks like, and how long I’ve been hard, I know I’m not going to last much longer. I concentrate on the view before me, and hear Katniss groan as she looks on at the sight as well – I join her with a few groans of my own.

She takes the initiative and grabs the lube again, pouring some over the top of her fist, coating the head of my dick as it pushes through her hand again, and then there’s that sound again, the rhythmic sloshing of the lube plus her hand on me.

“Fuck, that’s sexy,” Katniss says, gasping after she says it. She looks at me, eyes wide like she can’t believe she said that out loud, and then I’m done.

“Gonna come,” I manage to choke out as I raise my hips slamming them into her wrist. Suddenly she tears her hand away, and I drop onto my ass, using both hands now to grab for her arm, shaking my head.

“No, no,” I beg. She lets me guide her hand back to my dick and she grips me again. I keep both hands over hers and begin to move up and down again. “It’s okay,” I sooth, pumping our hand over me in unison a few more times before I feel my orgasm begin deep in my stomach.

I cry out, keeping my hands over hers as I spasm and burst, the liquid running down my hand and between my fingers, catching Katniss’ hand where one of mine doesn’t cover.

“I’m sorry,” Katniss apologizes again. “I got nervous.”

“It’s alright,” I smile, letting go of her hand; I motion for her to grab the box of tissues on the table behind us with her clean hand. “Your hand just felt really good. And different.” 

She wipes her hand off and pushes the box to me, abandoning it in favor of her pants which she silently puts back on before excusing herself to the bathroom to clean up better. I wipe my hands off and make sure nothing dripped onto my shirt, When I’ve inspected everything, I wash my hands in the kitchen and sit back down in the living room, unsure of where to go from here.

Katniss comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, smelling like the soap we keep on the sink. She sits down next to me once again and re-braids her hair before turning around and grabbing my Trig book.

“So, I think you were right,” she says, opening the book and finding the page we’re supposed to be working on. “Next time, we do homework first, and _then_ reward ourselves.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Every car that drives down the street causes me to look up from the drawing I'm working on. After a third car drives by and doesn't stop, I grab my phone and look at the text that Katniss sent me almost an hour ago.

**_"On my way over."_ **

The drive from Katniss's house to mine is less than fifteen minutes, and while I know I shouldn't be keeping track of the time, I can't help myself. It's been four days since we last saw each other. Since Spring Break began, my wrestling schedule, coupled with Katniss's new job at the pet storehas made it almost impossible for us to see each other, even for an hour. My ears begin to burn hot with embarrassment over my thoughts. It's only four days. This isn't the first time our schedules have prevented us from hanging out, but that was before --

"Peeta! Katniss is here!" My father’s voice bellows loudly through my closed bedroom door, tearing me away from my thoughts and causing my stomach to lurch up into my throat. I was hoping he would be gone by the time Katniss got here.

I don't bother answering him. I'm off my bed and out of the door before he even has a chance to wait for me to respond. The hallway between my bedroom and the living room feels impossibly long today, and my pulse pounds hard against my throat when Katniss comes into view.

Her hair is pulled back into a tight braid, leaving her neck exposed. Remembering how warm her skin is and how sweet it tastes forces me to dig my fingernails into my palm in attempts to take my mind off of the fact that just the sight of her is making my dick stir.

“Hey,” I mumble, lifting my hand in greeting.

With my father playing the awkward third wheel, the tension in the air is tangible. Katniss gives a slight wave in return, then immediately places her hand back on the strap of the green backpack slung over her shoulder.

“So, what will you two be working on today?” My father inquires. It’s the same series of questions every time my parents are around when Katniss is here.

“Chemistry project,” Katniss says quickly. “It’s due when we go back to school on Monday.”

My father nods, seemingly satisfied with Katniss’s answer. “Will you be staying for dinner?” He asks.

Katniss looks to me, waiting for an answer. She hoists her backpack higher onto her shoulder, letting her fingers drift across the exposed skin near her collarbone. Whether or not she did it on purpose, she has me fixated.

I continue to watch her fingers move down further until they hit the chain of the simple silver necklace that used to belong to her father. He died a few years before we met, and I have never seen her without it. She pulls the pendant out from her shirt and begins to move it back and forth across the chain. It’s an action I’ve seen her perform hundreds, if not, thousands of times, but today I can’t stop staring at her while she does it.

“Peeta?”

“What?” I turn my head rapidly, meeting my father’s confused stare.

“Are you going to invite your friend to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, right.” I let out a breath and laugh nervously, pulling my hand through my hair. “You’re always invited to stay for dinner, Katniss.”

She smiles at me while nodding, and I can’t help but smile widely at her in return. I have to fight to hide the look of agitation and soon after, fear, that is probably painted on my face when my father clears his throat, breaking our focus on each other.

“I’m heading out to the bakery in a few minutes to help your mother until closing. There’s a meatloaf in the refrigerator, put it in the oven at six o'clock on 350 so we can eat around seven.” As I listen to my father talk, all I can do is hope he hasn't picked up on the change between me and Katniss. It's the elephant in the room right now, and it feels like that elephant is sitting right on my chest, suffocating me.

“Sure, dad,” I reply, looking at my watch -- Four thirty. That gives us an hour and a half. "Ready to get started?" I ask, turning to Katniss. With her nod, I motion for her to follow me to my bedroom. "We'll have to work in my bedroom since we need the Internet and _I don't have a laptop._ "

I stress the final words in hopes that my father doesn’t argue the fact that I’m bringing Katniss into my room. It’s usually off limits to her if my parents are around when she gets here. In the past, I have been able to get them to make exceptions when there is a project due that needs the Internet, and I’m hoping that holds true today.

"I'll see you two for dinner," my father laughs, making no protest against Katniss coming into my room. I let out a breath and continue walking up the hall.

The walk to my bedroom is silent. I can feel my father's eyes on my back as I lead Katniss up the hall, and judging by the way Katniss keeps cracking her knuckles behind me, she feels it too.

I push open my bedroom door and step aside, allowing Katniss to walk in first. Glancing back up the hall to the living room, I notice my father is no longer where he previously stood, and I smirk to myself, relieved that he didn't seem to pick up on the heat that seemed to be radiating between me and Katniss.

Before I can even process what's happening, Katniss's hands are pushing my shoulders and my back painfully makes contact with my bedroom door. It slams loudly, and Katniss presses her body against mine and kisses me hard.

The shock of the moment sends my mind into a tailspin. While kissing isn’t new to us anymore, the fervor behind Katniss’s kisses have definitely changed since the first one a month ago.

_Katniss swings her leg over my hips and straddles them, grabbing my hands to keep her steady above me. We shouldn’t be doing this. We agreed not to do this today. Not with Katniss’s sister Prim, and their mother down in the kitchen making dinner._

_It started with Katniss’s hand on my thigh while we silently compared homework answers. Little by little, she moved her hand higher until her entire palm was resting on the front of my jeans. With one squeeze, I had my eyes locked on her face, right into her half lidded eyes and down to the corner of her lip that was quirked up in amusement. With a second squeeze, I was done._

_Now, I stare at her body on top of mine. The mess of dark hair fresh out of its braid that falls in waves over her right shoulder, our hands clasped together tightly, her chest rising and falling heavily with her ragged breathing, and her hips grinding slowly against mine._

_It was pointless to even say we weren’t going to end up like this today. Every time we see each other now we end up like this._

_Katniss leans forward and lets go of my right hand, enabling me to snake it behind her body and slip it into the back of her sweatpants. She grips my shirt in her fist and begins to move with more vigor, sucking in a sharp gasp between her teeth when I thrust my hips up to meet her middle, making sure she feels how hard I am._

_And then suddenly, her mouth covers mine, muffling the sounds of a moan that starts deep in her chest. Katniss has never kissed me before -- at least not like this. I decide not to call attention to it, and continue thrusting my hips upward, listening to the small noises that she continues to make against my lips, and the fleeting gasp when she opens her mouth to catch her breath and trace my bottom lip with the tip of her tongue._

“Peeta!” My father barks. “What was that?!”

Katniss and I break apart quickly, and I turn, hauling the door back open and setting the doorstop underneath it.

“The wind made my door shut again!” I call back. With my windows open almost all the time, a sudden gust of wind more often than not will cause my door to slam shut if I don’t have the doorstop underneath it -- now if my father would just believe my quick lie, I can relax.

He shouts back something about how I always forget to use the doorstop, but I can barely hear him over the sound of my heart beating loudly in my ears. I throw a halfhearted apology in his direction and turn to find Katniss standing a few feet from me looking uneasy.

“The door isn’t supposed to be shut when you’re in here,” I whisper firmly. “You know the rule.”

“I’m sorry,” Katniss says sheepishly. “I just...” she looks down at her feet, the tips of her ears turning red. “Nevermind.”

“It’s okay,” I assure her, suddenly feeling guilty for my tone. “He’s leaving soon, let’s just pretend that we actually have a Chemistry project to work on until he’s gone.”

"Right," Katniss breathes. It’s as though she is just remembering the plan we came up with last week so we could see each other. We never had a Chemistry project due. We barely even had homework over spring break, and what we did have, we finished separately.

She plops herself down on my bed and brings her legs up under her and begins to fish through her backpack, finding her chemistry book and a blue folder. I want to crack a joke about how prepared she is in her attempts to lead my father to believe she's here for school work, but she already looks so tense that I can't bring myself to do it.

Instead, I decide to follow her lead. Sitting down in front of my computer, I grab a stray notebook that I usually use for doodling and open it up to a clean page, throwing a pen down on top.

"Quick," I say, turning my chair in Katniss's direction. "What are we doing our project on?"

I notice that Katniss has begun to pull papers from her folder. She has them strewn across my bed, and she rifles through her textbook, hopefully looking for a topic, just in case my father starts his questioning again.

"Um, what about.." Katniss flips through a few more pages, stopping and pointing at a page. “Ionic and covalent bonds?”

“Ionic and covalent bonds it is," I reply, smiling. "Nice touch with the textbook and papers, by the way."

"I didn't have a choice," Katniss sighs. "Right as I was getting ready to leave, my mother came into my room and asked me to take Prim to the park so she could take a nap. When I told her I couldn't, she started questioning me. She even had Prim come ask me to take her out, so I had to tell them we had a huge project to do. I couldn't very well walk out of the house without my stuff after that."

"You told Prim no?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"I told her I'd take her out tomorrow," Katniss shrugs, turning her attention back to her textbook.

Since the day I met Katniss in freshman year, I have never known her to say no to her little sister. She has canceled plans with me, invited me along, and even brought Prim with her here while we worked on homework in the past, but she has never done anything like this before.

"It's just the park. She's old enough to look after herself while our mother naps now," Katniss mumbles into her textbook.

"Yeah.." I decide not to press the issue, and force the shock to the back of my mind. I have the whole night to mull her behavior over. Now is not the time. I'm actually relieved when I hear my father's light tap on my door frame.

"I'm leaving now," he announces, grinning when he spots Katniss diligently reading her textbook. "I just wanted to remind you again about putting the meatloaf in the oven."

"I got it, dad," I say, rolling my eyes. "Now go before mom gets angry and we all pay for it later."

My father slaps his hand against the door frame twice and turns, disappearing back down the hallway.

Katniss and I sit in silence as we listen for signs of my father leaving -- the telltale jiggling of his keys, the front door closing, his car starting, and finally, the sound of his engine fading off into the distance as he drives down the street and away from the house.

I leap from my desk chair as if it caught fire and reach my door in no time. I kick the doorstep out from underneath and slam it, making sure the lock clicks before I cross the room in three steps to meet Katniss on the bed.

When I reach her, she kneels up to meet me. I take her head in my hands and tilt it up, bringing my mouth down to cover hers. There’s nobody to interrupt us now, so we take our time with our kisses. Katniss opens her mouth, allowing my tongue entrance, tangling her hands in my hair as I nip at her bottom lip.

“Don’t worry about the papers,” Katniss manages to say between kisses. “They’re graded ones.”

Shaking my head,  I pull away to look at her and laugh, watching her gray eyes come to life when she chuckles in return. I kneel on the bed, ignoring the papers crinkling loudly under my knees and kiss Katniss again, reveling in the sweet taste of her tongue gliding across mine. She moans into my mouth, and my chest caves with a sigh. Just hearing her is enough to get me hard.

Katniss is breathless when she pulls away from me and untangles her hands from my hair. I am just about to protest when her hand cups my cheek.

Our pauses when we fool around usually only last as long as it takes us to get our pants off, so when the pad of Katniss’s thumb brushes lightly under my eye, and her face softens, the gesture is so tender that it feels foreign. She stares, and there’s something in her eyes that I can’t quite decipher, but I feel like she’s staring straight through me. It causes my heart to beat wildly in my chest, and I have to stop myself from asking her what she’s doing.

Suddenly, her face contorts and the soft look has been replaced with a wicked grin. Both of her hands drop to my shoulders and she pushes me roughly. I fall back purposefully, smirking when she straddles my hips.

“It would take a lot more force than that to put me down if I were to fight back,” I quip, bringing my hands to rest on Katniss’s hips.

“Are you complaining?” Katniss asks, quirking her eyebrow. I shake my head quickly in response.

At some point, I always end up on my back with Katniss on top of me, peppering kisses across my face and learning which hip movements get me the hardest, until she finally moves down and helps me out of my pants so she can touch me. This is the dance we do -- all action, minimal talk.

It has been a month since the first time we did this, but nothing has really changed. We barely talk about it, we never stray from the familiar, and Katniss always ends up leading the way. Why can't I be more outgoing with her? Pin her to the bed and kiss every part of her that to this day still remains hidden. Pull her shirt off, her bra, touch her breasts, kiss them. Would she like that? Does she want that? I'm not sure what is scaring me. It's clear that she likes when I touch her, but maybe she is just as scared to ask for more as I am to act on it. I'll never know if I don't try.

The space between our bodies in small. With each shift of her body, Katniss closes the space, pressing our chests together. It's now or never. As she moves away, I snake my hand between our bodies and find her breast. I cup it lightly. So lightly that I'm not even sure she feels it, so I set my hand on her more firmly and squeeze once.

Katniss gasps and pulls away away from me. I tear my hand away, embarrassed.

"I'm --"

"I'm sorry!" Katniss stammers, cutting my apology off. She sits perched on my hips, her hands pressed against my chest. "I just wasn't expecting it. Here..."

Katniss picks my hand up from where I dropped it to my side and brings it back to her breast and holds it there with both of hers. I take a chance and squeeze again, and I watch in awe as she closes her eyes tightly and throws her head back slightly, taking a deep breath in through her nose.

The look of protest Katniss shoots me when I pull my hand away pierces straight through my chest and down into my stomach. She liked it. She didn't want me to stop. I decide to try something else. Slowly, I work my hand under the hem of her t-shirt. Katniss looks down at my arm intently as it disappears under the fabric.

I move slowly, grazing my fingers over the warm skin on her stomach, feeling it contract under my touch. As I move further up, I listen, waiting for her to tell me to stop, but the words never come. The way she stares back at me when I look up to gauge her reaction is all consuming. I can't tear my eyes away from her. Her chest heaves under my hand when it reaches the fabric of her bra. Each exaggerated breath threatens to push us both into an abyss that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to crawl out of, but it's too late to think about that now.

My fingers find the lip of Katniss's bra and I work my fingers underneath, slowly blurring the lines of what's familiar and unfamiliar between us, until the silky fabric is pushed up and my hand covers her bare breast. Once again, I squeeze gently, feeling her hardened nipple brush against my palm. Katniss arches her back, pressing harder against my hand as she moans airily and anchors herself by grabbing my sides.

_Do you like that, Katniss?_ I'd love to say the words out loud, but I can't seem to get a sound past the lump in my throat that only seems to get larger when Katniss bites her bottom lip and starts to grind against me. She looks lost, like she is giving into urges that have been bubbling inside of her for weeks. I hold onto her hip with my free hand while she glides her middle over my dick with nothing but our clothing stopping us from truly feeling one another.

Suddenly, Katniss stops and moves her hands to the bottom of her shirt, whipping it up and over her head in a hurry. Without a moment of hesitation, she reaches back and unhooks her bra, leaving me staring at my hand covering her breast, the contrast of my fair skin against her olive tone is striking.

"They're small..." Katniss says feebly, her cheeks stained red. She won't look at me anymore. Is this why she hasn't taken her shirt off until now? Does she actually think I care about that?

"No," I manage to choke out, pulling my hand away. I allow my fingers to graze the newly exposed skin down to her stomach. My hand comes to rest on her thigh. "Don't say that." Finally, she looks at me again, eyes wide and uncertain. "Come here." I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and pull her down into a kiss to try and convey all of the things I cannot say. That there's nothing to be ashamed of, she is beautiful and she is perfect in my eyes.

"Touch me again," Katniss breathes against my mouth. I close my eyes and take in the sound of her voice -- ragged and wistful. She pushes herself back up into a sitting position and grabs my hands, bringing them over both of her breasts. She squeezes my hands, encouraging me to knead harder than I had been before. "Yes," Katniss hisses, her hips respond again and I moan in unison with her. "Like that."

The tips of my fingers find her nipple -- small and pebbled, and I swirl the pad of my thumb over it before pinching it delicately.

"Harder," Katniss instructs ardently. I follow her direction and pinch harder. “Yes,” she moans again.

Just listening to how this is affecting her is beginning to make me feel unhinged. She bucks harder on top of me, and I let out a strangled moan from the friction between our bodies. My dick is almost aching to be touched by her small, soft hands. She works me in ways that I have never been able to, and I know that just her body gliding over mine with clothes on is not going to be enough for much longer.

I can’t take my eyes off of her face. The way her jaw is lax, mouth slightly parted as she flicks her tongue out and wets her lips. I wonder what she’s thinking right now. Does she like how my dick feels rubbing against her? I should ask her -- I want to ask her, but I still can’t find the words.

She drops down and presses her bare chest against my clothed one and kisses me again. She looks beautiful. Sounds beautiful. When she breaks away and looks down at me, I reach up and push a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and I know at that moment, I’m a goner and have been since the day I met her.

As if on cue, Katniss begins to move, slithering down my chest and off of my body. I’m used to this. It’s all part of our dance. She pops the button on my jeans and begins to tug them down, catching my boxers as she pulls. The relief I feel when my dick springs free brings a groan to my lips.  

Katniss looks down at me and reaches out, grabbing my erection almost expertly now compared to that first day. There is no trepidation in her movements as she smooths her hand down my length, but then she stops. I look at her, confused, and knit my eyebrows together. I am just about to ask her what’s wrong, when I notice the intensity of her gaze. It’s almost intimidating.

What _is_ she thinking?

She hovers over me and grabs my dick again, smoothing over it the same way she did before, but this time, she leans her chest forward and pulls the tip down between her breasts, rubbing it over the skin there and across to her left breast. Her eyes flick back up to me nervously, and I nod at her, dumbfounded.

“Feels good,” I groan, encouraging her to continue.

She begins to rub the head of my dick across her hardened nipple. I suck in air between my teeth in response. When she looks up at me again, her expression is full of fear.

“What’s wrong?” I manage to ask. She won’t answer. She just keeps looking up at me, her eyes as wide as saucers.

Finally, Katniss licks her lips and breaks eye contact, looking down at my dick and then back up at me quickly one last time. Slowly, she moves back down onto her stomach, continuing to stroke me as she situates herself between my legs.

I prop myself up on my elbows and watch her, clad in a pair of jeans, lying between my legs, stroking my hard dick. When she swallows hard and begins to move her face forward, I have to question if my mind is playing tricks on me. Is she really about to do what I think she is? I twitch in anticipation just thinking about it.

We keep ours eyes locked on each other. Katniss licks her lips once more and leans forward. We’re both breathing heavily as Katniss’s lips make contact with my shaft where she places a light kiss. And then another, moving higher each time, halting all of my thoughts until finally she is at the tip of my dick and her lips are enveloping it.

She sucks for a quick second before the bellowing moan I let out stops her. _No, don’t stop_. Katniss looks up at me, and I try to give her an encouraging nod, but I’m afraid it doesn’t work. I can’t seem to close my mouth. My breathing is uneven and I know that my eyes don’t show the confidence that I’m trying to convey.

The sigh of relief I let out when Katniss takes me into her mouth again is loud and almost desperate. She moves down and takes more of me into her mouth, but her teeth scraping across my shaft cause me to jump and wince slightly. Katniss looks up at me worriedly.

“Teeth,” I explain sheepishly. Her eyes grow wide in horror, and  I smile at her in attempts to not make her feel bad.

“Shit...” Katniss berates herself. “I didn’t mean to...”

“It’s okay,” I breathe. “It’s okay. Just.. please. Please do that again.”

“You liked it?” Katniss asks, shocked.

“It felt incredible,” I tell her reassuringly, but she still doesn’t look convinced. “Your mouth felt incredible.” I can see Katniss’s breathing speed up when she hears my words. She jumps up, placing a quick kiss on my lips before tugging at my t-shirt.

“Can you take this off?” He says, looking away to finish her sentence. “I want to be able to touch you.”

“Sure,” I chuckle, sitting up and pulling my shirt over my head quickly. After I’ve thrown it to the side, I look at her and watch her eyes sweep over my body. We’ve never been completely naked in front of each other before. I look down at Katniss’s jeans. “Take your pants off,” I say, trying to keep my tone steady.

Without protest, Katniss unbuttons her jeans and slips them off. She settles herself back between my legs and I admire her completely naked form for the first time. My eyes follow the arch of her back down to the curve of her ass. I want to touch every part of her, but right now she has other plans.

With less hesitation than before, Katniss slips the tip of my dick into her mouth again and sucks, swirling her tongue over it.

“Oh fuck,” I mumble. I’m about ready to lose it already. I can’t finish yet. In attempts to distract myself, I sit up higher on my elbows, watching Katniss’s mouth take in more of me. Warmth engulfs me and I can’t keep myself still. I want to thrust my hips, push my dick in deeper, but I know I can’t do that. I shouldn’t.

Katniss’s hand comes to rest on my hip and she presses down hard in attempts to get me to calm down, while her other hand begins to trail up my stomach to my chest, touching everything she can manage while she continues to suck. She drags her tongue up the underside of my dick until her lips find the tip again and she sucks in. I’m panting, unable to even find a word to mutter under my breath.

I’ve never felt anything this amazing before. If her mouth feels this good, what does _she_ feel like? I can’t stop my mind from wandering to thoughts of plunging into her over and over again. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it, but right now, with her mouth on me while her nails are scratching up and down my stomach in time with her movements, it brings my thoughts to a whole new level, blurring my vision and clouding my mind.

Katniss starts to move faster, as though she is gaining control of her rhythm and getting used to the feeling of having me in her mouth. I keep watching the way her lips slide over my dick, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.

How did we get there? From friends to.. what are we now? I push those thoughts away and reach out, running a hand through the hair that has come loose from Katniss’s braid, making sure that I take my time and focus on keeping my hips still while I take in the sight before me.

Katniss shifts and takes her hand off of my stomach, leaving behind a trail of red, angry skin where her nails grazed. She reaches between my legs and finds my balls, cupping them in her hand. My hips come up off the bed involuntarily when she begins to massage and run her palm over them.

This is too much. I know I’m not going to last much longer. I can feel the familiar sensation buliding up deep in my stomach.

“Katniss,” I moan heavily. She looks up at me, but continues to suck. “Gonna come.”

She hesitates for just a second, but in the end continues with even more fervor than before, working eagerly to get me off.

“Katniss,” I say warningly one last time before my hips seize and my dick twitches. Katniss keeps her mouth on me while I come, but pulls aways quickly, and it spills over the head and down my length. Her hand comes up to her mouth and she swallows before letting out a gasp behind her hand.

"I'm sorry," Katniss apologizes. "I'm so sorry! There was just too much."

I look at her quizzically for a moment while I struggle to catch my breath. It takes me a little while to realize that she is apologizing for pulling away. I reach out, finding my discarded t-shirt and use it to clean off my stomach, looking up to Katniss whose eyes are still filled with uncertainty.

“Hey,” I say soothingly, reaching my arm out and gesturing for her to come closer. She moves over to me and presses her naked body flush against mine, our faces aligned. “It’s okay. There’s nothing to apologize for,” I finally tell her.

Katniss looks at me tenderly, leans down, and kisses me deeply. Her tongue enters my mouth without hesitation. I can taste what I can only imagine is myself on her lips and tongue. It’s oddly thrilling and I know immediately that I want to find out what she tastes like.

Does Katniss want that? I can’t ask her. I don’t want to ruin our kisses by stopping to ask if I can eat her out. Instead, I shift my weight, getting up on my knees, coaxing Katniss to do the same. I cup the sides of her head with my hands and continue kissing her, moving my tongue into her mouth and sliding it along hers languidly. The low moan that vibrates in Katniss’s throat gives me just the boost of confidence I need to gently urge her to lie flat on her back on the bed.

Without thought or even a look, my hand finds Katniss's breast again. I knead it in my hand, enticing her. She sucks on my bottom lip and squirms underneath me, arching her back as though she needs to feel more of me.

"Peeta," Katniss moans softly. She wraps her hands around the back of my neck and pushes down, guiding my head toward her chest. Even without speaking, I know what she's trying to tell me.

My mouth finds her breast easily, and since I know she wants this I don't bother looking up at her for approval. Her skin is warm and smooth against my lips, and she keeps her hands at the back of my head, softly caressing my hair and periodically dragging her nails across my neck while I dot kisses across her chest.

When I reach her nipple, I flick my tongue out over it to test Katniss's response. She sighs and arches her back. I smile against her skin as I wrap my mouth around the hardened nub and begin to suck, gently at first, but then I remember her words from earlier. _Harder._

The harder I suck, the louder she gets. Her legs fall open, allowing me to fall between them. It has never been like this before. There is nothing hiding us from each other now. I can feel every inch of her skin as it presses against mine. The warmth and wetness between her legs is evident against my stomach. It's exhilarating -- I have to taste her.

Each kiss I leave on her skin moves me lower and lower down her body. Katniss's breathing is erratic, her hands still buried in my hair. She pulls fistfuls aggressively, anxiously, as though she is anticipating what is to come.

I give her stomach a final kiss and push her knees up until her feet are flat on the bed. My hands roam her thighs, followed by my lips. I kiss the inside of her thighs further and further until I'm face to face with her middle. I can see how wet she is, and I resolve to try to make this as good for her as she made it for me, even though I've never done anything like this before.

Starting with what's familiar seems to be the easiest. I push my thumb between her folds and rub her clit, dragging it down through the wetness before I bring the soaked digit to my mouth and suck, looking up to make sure Katniss sees what I'm doing.

Katniss’s taste is distinctly different from my own, but intoxicating. She opens her legs wider, inviting me back in. Repeatedly, I run my fingers between her folds and lick them clean, indulging in the slight hint of sweetness.

"Peeta?" Katniss says, squirming underneath me. I bring my eyes up to meet her confused stare. _Shit._ She isn't enjoying this. How could she? I wasn't doing anything to make her feel good.

"Sorry." I look up at her sheepishly, determined to tell her what is going through my mind. "You just.." I almost stop, but force myself to continue. “I like the way you taste,” I finish, causing her cheeks to redden.

This time, I take my pointer finger and trail it down the inside of her thigh all the way down until I find her center. I use my other hand to spread her wet folds before gently pushing my finger inside of her. She's tight, even with just one finger, and it makes my dick twitch when I think about how wet and warm her walls are against my finger.

Katniss doesn't seem to be responding when I pull my finger out and push back in. I try a few more times, but notice she has propped herself up on her elbows as is staring at me.

"Fingers don't really do much for me. Not one at least," Katniss shrugs. "Every time I've tried to add a second though, it hurts too much so I stop. I was hoping since your finger is thicker than mine it would work but..."

"It's not." I cut in, finishing her sentence. Katniss shakes her head sadly. I pull my hand back, overcome with embarrassment. I should just stop trying. Go back to getting her off the way I know works and leave it at that.

"What you were doing with your thumb felt great, though." She smiles at me encouragingly, probably sensing my discouragement. "I bet it'd feel even better if you did it with your tongue."

Somewhere along the way I lost my focus. The plan all along was to do for her what she did for me. I feel stupid that she had to remind me what I was supposed to be doing, but I try to ignore it and settle myself back between her legs.

The silence since Katniss's reminder is only making my nerves worse. What if I'm terrible at it? Then again, as far as I know, nobody has ever done this to her before, so maybe she won't realize that I'm terrible. If all else fails, at least I know how to make her come with my hand.

I take my fingers and spread her folds again, moving my head in close. Before I can over think it, I dip my tongue in and drag it up, stopping at her clit. She tastes even sweeter now, and I lick greedily, trying to taste as much of her as I can.

As I work, I begin to notice that every time my tongue circles Katniss's clit, she gasps louder. I think about the way she liked when I sucked on her nipple and I decide to experiment by wrapping my mouth around the sensitive nub and sucking.

"Holy shit, Peeta!" Katniss gasps, fisting my hair again. Her noises fill me with certainty. I take my mouth away from her middle briefly, leaving Katniss breathless while I kiss her the inside of her thighs and suck on the skin with so much force that I know there will be a mark later.

I find a pattern that seems to be working, alternating between licking and sucking. Katniss grabs my hair tighter, and I stop moving, but continue to lick when she begins to swirl her hips over my face, guiding where she wants my mouth to be.

She calls out my name one last time before her orgasm takes over, but I don't stop. I don't want to stop. Her body shudders against my mouth while I continue to lap at her center, the sound of her deep breathing and satiated moans threatening to make me hard again.

After her body has calmed and I've pulled my mouth away, I feel a swell of pride deep in my chest. I move up her body and kiss her deeply.

"Do you taste yourself on me?" I ask huskily.

"Yes," Katniss replies, pulling me down into another kiss, moaning into my mouth. I feel my dick begin to stir even more, but I can't let it take over, as much as I want to. It's almost six now. I'd never hear the end of it if I forgot to put dinner in the oven.

"I have to go get dinner started, I’m sorry," I whisper against Katniss's lips. "You can stay in here if you want, or come out when you're ready."

I slither off the bed and slip my boxers back on, remembering at last minute that I used my shirt to clean my come off of my stomach.

In the kitchen, I peel the foil away from the pan of meatloaf and crinkle it. I almost don't hear the sound of the side door opening before my brother Rye, walks inside.

"Cooking in your underwear?" he laughs, peeking into the pan at the meatloaf.

"Fuck off," I retort, irritated. "Why are you even home?" I hope he can't sense the nervousness in my voice. _Katniss, just stay in the bedroom until he's gone. Please._

"I forgot something. I'll only be a minute, then you can go back to jerking off and crying in your room." He laughs at his joke and begins to leave the kitchen, but stops abruptly when he almost collides with Katniss.

Rye narrows his eyes at me before laughing and shaking his head.

"I had a feeling you two were fucking," he says, turning and walking out of the kitchen snickering.

I run after him, panicked, and grab his shoulder forcing him to turn around.

"WE'RE NOT..." I stop to clear my throat and lower my voice. "We're not _fucking,"_ I hiss.

"So you just walk around in your underwear in front of every friend you have over?" Rye questions. "I'm not stupid, Peeta."

"We're not fucking..." I repeat seriously. "At least not yet."

Rye nods.

"Just screwing around then, huh?"

"Yeah.. I guess," I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. "You're not going to tell mom, are you?"

"Hell no, I'm not going to tell mom. She'd never let her over here again," he says, shaking his head. "I'm not going to deny my little brother the chance to get his dick wet, what kind of a monster do you think I am?"

"Thanks," I say gratefully, cringing at his choice of words.

"Don't say I never did anything for you, now go get dinner started before mom gets here."

When I get back in the kitchen, I sigh in relief when I see Katniss leaning against the counter, sipping a soda.

"Good think I put my clothes on," Katniss observes, pointing her chin in the direction Rye went. "Does he know?" Her voice is suddenly nervous.

"Yeah, he knows," I confirm. "He said he wasn't going to tell." Katniss sighs and drops her shoulders just as the oven beeps, indicating it is ready for the meatloaf.

Silently, we disband. I get the meatloaf into the oven while Katniss gathers silverware for the table. I reach behind Katniss to pull plates down from the cupboard above her. Once I set them down, I wrap my arms around her from behind. Katniss melts into me and rests her head on my arm. I'm not sure if it’s the relief of knowing that my brother isn't going to rat us out, or if it’s something else, but this isn't something we normally do. Our affections usually stopped as soon as we were finished fooling around.

I don't question it. Instead, I dip my head down and kiss the exposed skin of Katniss's neck. She brings her hand to the back of my head, and runs her fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp.

We're interrupted by the sound of Rye clearing his throat from the archway.

"Mom will be home in forty five minutes," he says warningly. Katniss and I both hear his tone and understand what he's trying to say -- _Make yourselves presentable and practice acting like you didn't spend the afternoon messing around._

"Thanks," I say, pulling away from Katniss reluctantly.

Rye nods curtly and is out the door seconds later.

"Go get dressed, I'll set the table," Katniss offers, smiling warmly at me. Her smile holds something that I can't quite figure out, but it fills me with so much ardor that the only way I can respond is by kissing her. I run my hand down her side, lingering longer than I should then I leave the kitchen, disappearing into my bedroom to change and make sure everything looks as it should.

Alone here in the quiet room, I can't stop my mind from contemplating what was in Katniss's smile. Something is changing, I can feel it, and even though we haven't discussed it, I know we will need to. Soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, the next chapter is going to have a lot more focus on pushing the plot and not the porn (but the porn will still be there) ;)


	3. Chapter 3

“Fuck, Katniss,” I exhale, unable to hold my tongue. The sight of Katniss’s mouth enveloping my dick for the second time today has me reeling. I grip my sheets in my fists when her tongue comes out and swirls around the head.

Every time she does this it feels even more amazing than the last. Over the last two weeks, it seems like we’ve spent more time making each other come than we have spent talking. Every time I resolve to sit her down and talk -- truly talk -- about what we’re doing, something distracts me.

Sometimes it’s the intoxicating scent of her hair -- light, like grapefruit, often with a hint of vanilla. Other times it’s the feeling of her smooth, warm lips against the skin of my neck, or the gentle nipping of her teeth on my earlobe. The thing that gets me the most, however, are the soft noises she makes when she’s near me. They’re so light and so soft that I’m not even sure that she realizes she’s doing it.

It’s those noises that I can now feel vibrating against my dick. Her hand grips the base of me as she takes more of my length into her mouth. I can barely tell where her mouth stops and her hand begins anymore.

“ _Shit,_ that feels good,” I growl.

Katniss moans louder against me, as though she’s challenging me to use my voice and make more noise. I match her volume, letting an uninhibited moan pass my lips that only seems to grow louder when Katniss uses her free hand to begin massaging my balls. The effect is almost devastating.

I drop my hand and bury it in Katniss’s hair that is now free from the braid she arrived in. The corner of my mouth quirks up into a lopsided grin over the way her hair is still mussed as a result of writhing across my bed so forcefully when I made her come earlier. I can still hear the way she sounded when my name fell from her lips, unbridled and heavy. I can still feel how hard she fisted my hair as she rode out her orgasm.

Katniss’s hand begins to move from the base of my dick up to the tip. She leans forward and kisses the head before taking it back into her mouth only briefly, dragging her tongue along the slit and pulling away.

“Does this feel good?” She asks, squeezing me tightly while she pulls her hand up and down the length.

“Feels great,” I breathe. “Keep going.”

“What about this?”

She adds her tongue again, slowly licking a line up the underside of my dick from the bottom to tip, closing her mouth over me and moving down, taking me in as deep as she can.

“Oh my _God_ ,” I mutter, my voice strained.

Before I can stop myself, I lift my hips from the bed and thrust gently into Katniss’s mouth. I open my eyes quickly, ready to apologize, but instead of pulling back, she is staying in place. She lets out a muffled moan that vibrates straight down to my toes -- she liked it.

I try again and the same thing happens, so I continue, finding a rhythm that works, being careful not to thrust too hard. Our moans mix together, filling the room and echoing through my mind, driving me closer and closer to the edge. I’m not sure we’ve ever been so loud. I’m not sure I ever want to be quiet again.

“I’m there, Katniss,” I croak. She braces herself and waits for me to thrust once more before I feel myself spilling into her mouth. I watch as she sucks hard, draining me of every last drop of come that she can before she pulls away and licks her lips again, smiling proudly.

As I work to steady my breathing, I watch Katniss quietly get up from the floor and gather her clothing, quickly slipping into them. When she is dressed, she climbs into my bed, waiting for me to join her.

Finally, I slip my boxers on and lie back against my pillows. Katniss curls up against my chest, snaking her hand out across my body, absentmindedly rubbing soft circles across my stomach. My fingers find her hair and comb through the tangled strands delicately as I close my eyes.

I could lie here like this with her all day if she’d let me. The pressure to speak isn’t there during these moments. It’s just the two of us enjoying the presence of one another, reveling in the silent, blissful minutes that follow. Minutes that are sure to be etched in my memory for a long time.

Before I fall asleep, I reach across my bed and grab my phone to set an alarm. Katniss and I have gotten used to taking naps together lately, relying on the alarm to wake us up before either of my parents come home.

“Actually, Peeta, I have to go now,” Katniss mumbles, pulling out of the grasp my arm had on her shoulder.

“What?” I ask, confused. “Why?” She didn’t tell me she had to leave early today.

Katniss sits up and sighs as she begins to re-braid her hair. She looks down at me sadly. It’s clear that she doesn’t want to go.

“I promised Prim that I’d take her to the park this afternoon..” She trails off, securing the fresh braid with a hair tie. “Since I haven’t in awhile.”

The guilt I feel is strong and immediate, and I can tell Katniss feels it too. Even though she didn’t say it, we both know that Katniss hasn’t taken Prim to the park, her favorite place, because she has been spending all of her free time with me instead.

Katniss leans forward, resting her hand on my chest again before pressing her lips to mine tenderly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” She murmurs, brushing the hair off my forehead. I nod and watch her move off of my bed and slip her shoes on as she makes her way to the door, stopping abruptly after she’s pulled it open. I furrow my eyebrows at the back of her head, observing the way she taps on her thigh nervously with her hand. She spins around quickly, a sheepish look painted on her face. “You wouldn’t want to come with us, would you?” She asks.

I am off my bed, throwing my clothes on, and following Katniss out of my bedroom and to her car without a second thought.

XXX

At the sound of Katniss’s horn, Prim runs out the front door and hops off the porch, blonde braids bobbing up and down with her steps. Prim is small for her age, just like Katniss, but that is where their physical similarities end. Prim favors their mother, fair skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Katniss’s olive skin, dark hair, and gray eyes come from their father.

I don’t know much about Katniss and Prim’s father, Katniss doesn’t like talking about it. She was eleven when he died, and Prim was seven, and beyond that, the only thing Katniss has ever told me about her father is that he was in a car accident as he came home from working the graveyard shift at the hospital where he was a security guard. The same hospital Katniss’s mother works at to this day.

Prim stops abruptly when she notices me sitting in the front seat of Katniss’s car. I make to open the door and let Prim sit in the front, but Katniss’s hand on my arm stops me.

“Oh. Hey, Peeta,” Prim says through the open window, giving a slight wave. “I didn’t know you were coming with us today.”

“Hey,” I smile. “I could move to the back if you want.” Suddenly I feel like I’m imposing on Katniss’s time with her sister. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“I can sit in the back,” Prim laughs. “And now that you’re going with us, you can keep Katniss out of my hair while we’re out.” She steps to the side and throws a small purse into the back seat before hopping in.

I look at Katniss and smirk when she glares at her sister. I push the thoughts of imposition away and settle into the passenger seat, enjoying the warmth of the sun on the side of my face.

“Buckle up,” Katniss instructs her sister, waiting until she hears the belt lock into place before pulling back out of the driveway.

XXX

When we get to the park, Prim is out of the car and running across the grass as soon as Katniss’s car is in park. Katniss and I are a little slower, taking time to roll up the car windows and lock the doors before setting off toward the water.

Walking through the grass that is still well kept and now covered in bright yellow dandelions, I suddenly remember the first time Katniss brought me to here.

_“You can just throw your bike down in the grass,” Katniss says, dropping her own down with a thud. I follow her lead and abandon my bike in the grass, jogging to catch up to her as she walks toward the water._

_“This is the park,” Katniss announces, spreading her arms out. “Well, it used to be the park. A new park was just built a little further away. It’s much nicer, so that’s why nobody comes here anymore unless they are going to play basketball.”_

_“They don’t have basketball courts at the new park?” I question._

_“They do, but so many people go there that they’re usually full. Since they took down the playground equipment here, but left the basketball courts, people come here to play sometimes.” She nods at me, seemingly satisfied with her explanation. “I still like this place better, though.”_

_I stand in awe and watch her talk. This is the most I've ever heard her speak. Her voice is nice. Higher and lighter than I'd imagined it being._

_“I like it,” I say with a shrug. It’s a big place with a lot more space than any of the parks back home. A wooded area surrounds us, and right in the center is a large lake. I smile when I spot a line of ducks swimming across it. “Do you swim here?”_

_“You don’t want to go in that water,” Katniss warns, shaking her head. “It’s disgusting. You’ll see when we get closer.”_

_She’s right. As we walk across the grass and my focus on the lake becomes clearer, I can see how green and cloudy the water is.There is algae that I can only imagine getting tangled in floating as far as the eye can see._

_Katniss sits herself down in the grass about ten feet from the water and pulls her knees up to her chest. I plop myself down beside her and take in my surroundings._

_“So,” Katniss says, staring out into the water. “Why did your family move here?”_

_“My parents bought a new bakery in town,” I explain. “Too far to drive to every day, so we all moved here.”_

_Katniss nods, still keeping her focus on the water._

_“How far did you move?” She asks._

_“About 150 miles, I guess,” I shrug._

_“Do you miss your friends?”_

_“Sometimes. It would have been nice to start high school with them instead of strangers, but my dad said he’d drive me back there to see them whenever I want.”_

_“Do you think I’m a stranger?” Katniss asks._

_“I don’t know anything about you except for your name, so.. yeah,” I reply honestly._

_“You agreed to go to an unknown park with a stranger?” She teases._

_“I don’t know how to make friends any other way,” I reason._

_“Well, what do you want to know about me?”_

_Katniss is a lot different when she’s not at school. Less standoffish -- funny, even. And I haven’t seen her scowl once._

_“I’ll start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” I ask. “Mine’s orange.”_

_“Green,” Katniss says quickly. “Can I ask one?” I nod. “How old are you, and when’s your birthday?”_

_“That’s two questions,” I say with a smirk. I see the corner of Katniss’s mouth pull up into a grin. “I’m fourteen, and my birthday is in March.”_

_“You’re older than me,” Katniss pouts. “My birthday isn’t until May.”_

_We fall into an uncomfortable silence as we both stare out into the water, watching the family of ducks wade through the water. The sound of Katniss clearing her throat brings my attention back to her._

_“So.. why’d you do it?” She asks in a voice just above a whisper, her tone completely changed as she plucks a dandelion from from grass and blows on it, causing the fluff to float through the air._

_“Do what?”_

_“Give me your homework to copy.” She looks at me with a scowl. I spoke too soon. She throws the dandelion stem to the ground angrily, her eyes hard and unreadable._

_“Oh.” I shrug. “I didn’t like the way the teacher yelled at you last time, and three missed assignments is detention, right?”_

_Katniss sits next to me in Mr. Abernathy’s math class. In just this first month of school, Katniss has missed handing in two assignments already, and Mr. Abernathy only allows three missed assignments for the entire semester before he starts handing out detentions._

_When I noticed that Katniss didn’t have her homework again, I quickly slipped her my sheet of answers and let her copy them before Mr. Abernathy came around to check our work._

_After class, Katniss stopped me in the hall and asked if I’d be interested in riding to the park with her after school. I agreed happily, eager to make a friend, but at the moment, I’m beginning to question my decision to come here with her. She’s angry. She narrows her eyes at me and clenches her jaw, and I can't help but wonder if she brought me here just to tell me off._

_“I’m not stupid, you know,” Katniss snaps._

_“I didn’t say you were,” I say defensively._

_“I can do the work just fine. It’s just that I...” She stops and looks at me again, her expression softening just a bit, as though she’s trying to decide if she should finish her sentence. “I don’t always have the time to get everything done that I need to everyday.”_

_“What do you mean? What kind of stuff do you have to do?” I ask gently._

_“Laundry, dinner, making sure my sister’s homework is done,” Katniss rattles off. “Everything, I guess.”_

_“What about your parents?”_

That was the day that I learned that Katniss’s father had died three years earlier, and that her mother is still often consumed by her grief. Even though she still works at the hospital, she frequently disappears to her room for days at a time, leaving Katniss and Prim to fend for themselves.

It was also the day Katniss and I decided to become homework buddies.

It started off with me going to her house all the time. While I was there, I would also help her get the laundry and dinner done, sometimes even helping Prim with her homework. Eventually, as Prim became more independent and started chipping in, Katniss was able to start coming to my house too, where she’d help me set the table for dinner, wash dishes afterwards, and occasionally, take a trip here to the park together.

That’s what our friendship was until this past winter. Between the things we’ve now done and the things we still haven’t said, everything feels like it has been turned upside down. I scan the area and find Prim, far off in the distance, digging into her purse and feeding a mangy, orange cat.

“Prim’s found her stupid cat,” Katniss says, rolling her eyes.

Katniss has told me all about this cat. How one afternoon, about a year ago, she and Prim came here to the park and the ugly cat sauntered up to Prim out of nowhere, purring and rubbing on her leg and never leaving Prim’s side. The next time they came back, he was still here. Eventually, Prim started bringing food for him to eat and tried to bring him home, but he wouldn’t stay. The very next day he was right back here. It’s why she likes to come here so much. To see that cat. She even named him Buttercup.

“Why do you hate cats?” I ask with a chuckle.

“I hate Prim’s cat, not all cats,” Katniss reminds me, joining my laughter.

All at once, we fall silent as though we both remember the first time Katniss said that to me. I feel the opportunity to speak slipping away, so I keep my eye on Prim to make sure she’s not coming back toward us and take a deep breath, steady my body, and urge myself to say something.

“Katniss?" I say, coaxing her to look at me. "I think we need to talk."

Katniss is silent for a while, pulling at the dandelions underneath us and twirling them in her fingers, the same way she did the first time we came here, only these dandelions are bright yellow and begin to stain her fingers as she starts to crush the flowers between her thumb and forefinger.

"I think so, too," Katniss finally admits with a sigh. She meets my gaze with hesitance. There is worry in her eyes. Over what, I'm not sure, but her silence tells me that she's waiting for me to start.

Where do I even begin? Do I ask her how we got where we are now without talking about it first? Do I ask her how far she wants to take this while casually mentioning that my brother has already supplied me with condoms that are now sitting in the drawer of the table in my room, just in case we ever decide to take things even further than we already have? Nothing sounds right, so instead, I spit out the first thing I can think of.

"I had fun today,” I offer, lamely. “I mean!" I stammer, trying to get the words out. "I always have fun with you. Even before..."

"I know what you mean," Katniss says, keeping her eyes on Prim.

"I like spending time with you.”

"I like spending time with you, too," Katniss replies, finally looking at me. She feigns a smile, but I can still see the apprehension in her eyes.

This is not going the way I imagined it would. I sigh, frustrated, and try again.

"No. I mean, I _really_ like spending time with you." Katniss raises her eyebrows, waiting for me to continue. "So much, that I think.. maybe we could be good.. together."

"Together?" Katniss repeats.

"As more than friends," I say on the exhale. My breathing is short from the nerves that have now set in, and my heart thumps wildly against my chest as I wait for Katniss to answer.

Her silence threatens to crush me. Each second that ticks by is like another weight added to my chest. Katniss has turned her focus to Prim again, who is now holding the cat like a baby as she sways back and forth. _She's fine, Katniss. Can you at least look at me?_

It catches me by surprise when she whips her head around to look at me again. Her eyes are softer, almost sympathetic. I brace myself for her rejection.

"So do I," Katniss murmurs.

A wide grin breaks out across my face before I have time to stop it. Katniss laughs airly, as if she’s relieved to have finally admitted it. I want to lean over and kiss her, show her how happy I am to hear that she has had the same thoughts I have, but I know she would never allow it with Prim so close. Instead, I reach between us and grab her hand and the dandelion she was holding. I lace our fingers together and hold the wilted and crushed flower in front of us.

“I’m not sure we can save this one,” I say with mock sadness. “And so young, too.”

“Let’s give him a burial at sea,” Katniss adds, plucking the dandelion from my fingers and throwing it into the water. We watch it float on the surface in silence.

“I’ve been trying to figure out a way to talk to you for weeks,” I finally confess sheepishly, steering the conversation back to where it needs to be right now. As little as we did say, now that it’s out in the open, I feel lighter somehow -- elated, even. “If I knew it’d be this easy, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Katniss’s hand finds my face, and for a fleeting moment, she gently rubs the pad of her thumb across my cheek bone, pulling away before Prim has a chance to look our way.  

“I was hoping you’d get the hint that I liked you when I asked you to show me how you masturbate,” Katniss says. She tries to sound serious, but soon she falls into a fit of laughter, covering her face with her hand. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I actually asked you to do that. After I got home that night, the only thing I could keep replaying in my head was how stupid I probably sounded.”

“You didn’t sound stupid. It worked, didn’t it?” I remind her, catching the tail end of her braid between my fingers. “It took a couple of months, but it worked.”

“It has been a nice couple of months, too,” Katniss adds.

“I’m hoping that the next couple will be even better,” I smile.

It’s nice being able to say these things out loud, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still a little nervous about it. Katniss can be unpredictable, sometimes. From hour to hour, I often don’t know if something I say will result in a kiss or a punch in the arm. This time, I’m met with a timid smile.

“So am I,” she replies, reaching into the grass and grabbing hold of my hand again.

XXX

Katniss pulls into my driveway and puts her car in park just behind Rye’s. Turning to face me in the passenger’s seat, she smiles.

“Thanks for coming with us today,” Katniss says.

“Yeah, Peeta,” Prim chimes in from the back seat. “Thanks for keeping Katniss out of my hair for the afternoon.”

“You’re welcome,” I laugh, turning my attention back to Katniss. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Before your shift at work?”

“Yeah,” Katniss says tenderly. “Tomorrow.”

Her stare feels as though it will seer a hole right through me. She licks her lips and sighs, knowing she can’t kiss me right now. As though sensing the tension, Prim clears her throat.

“You can kiss him if you want, Katniss. I won’t look.”

“Prim!” Katniss snaps. I can’t help but laugh, shielding my smile behind my hand.

“You’re so transparent,” Prim says. I can almost hear her rolling her eyes just from her tone. “I know you want to kiss him, so just do it.”

I look back then to see that Prim has turned her head and is staring out the window, keeping her promise not to look.

“May as well,” I shrug.

Katniss glowers at me for just a second before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to my waiting lips.

The urge to deepen the kiss is almost overwhelming, but I remember Prim sitting in the backseat, so I pull away reluctantly, taking Katniss’s hand in mine and squeezing.

“Text me later?” Katniss asks after I’ve opened the car door.

“You bet,” I say, trying to keep the mischief from my voice. We text every night before bed, but tonight, I have a little something different in mind to text her after I slip into bed.

I wave as Katniss pulls out of the driveway and make my way into the house, stopping dead in my tracks when I see my parents sitting in the living room. It’s not unusual to see my father home in the middle of a business day, he is almost always home by mid-afternoon. My mother on the other hand is a different story.

Since we moved here, I hardly see my mother. It was her idea to have the bakery open seven days a week. She is out of the house and there before I even wake up in the morning, and she doesn’t come home until after closing time at night. I see her at dinner, but I usually retreat to my bedroom immediately afterward.

“Hey,” I say in greeting. I can sense something is wrong. “What’s going on?”

"Was Katniss here today?" My father asks. There's something in his voice that I can't decipher. Something like a mix between interrogating and skepticism.

"Yeah, and then we took her sister to the park," I reply.

"And what about before that?"

“Dad, I --”

“Peeta,” my father interrupts sounding exasperated. “Just answer the question.”

“We just hung out, like always,” I reply.

“Are you two having sex?” he asks then.

“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly for my mother, who scoffs and shakes her head.

“He’s lying, Tim,” my mother says accusingly.

I stand in front of my parents at a loss for words. I can’t put my head around how in less than a minute, they have started a round of questioning that threatens to ruin everything. Anger has begun to steadily build in response to my mother’s cold tone and the disapproving look that now stares back at me.

“Your mother has reason to believe otherwise,” my father says, almost indifferently.

“Well then maybe _my mother_ should talk to me about this herself instead of going through a third party,” I spit back.  

“He’s your father!” my mother retorts.

“Only when you want him to do your dirty work,” I mumble angrily.

My mother begins to push herself up from the couch but is stopped when my father’s hand pushes down on her shoulder, keeping her in place.

“Peeta,” he begins sternly. “We asked you a question. Are you and Katniss having sex?”

“I already told you no!” I yell.

“And that is a lie!” My mother yells back.

When Rye’s bedroom door opens and he pokes his head out, my anger reaches a whole new level. He told them. He must have. How else would they know?

“What’s going on? Who’s yelling?” Rye asks.

My feet are moving and carrying me down the hall before I even realize it. I make it to Rye’s door quickly and push it open angrily.

“You told them!” I snarl, pushing him into the wall. “You fucking told them!”

“What the _hell_ are you talking about?!” Rye growls. He grabs my arms and pushes me away just in time for my father to catch me by the shoulders.

“You told them about me and Katniss!” I hiss in Rye’s direction.

“I didn’t tell them anything!”

I attempt to go after Rye a second time, but my father’s grip on me is too strong to break out of.

“Peeta!” my father yells, gripping my shoulders harder and spinning me around to face him. “Rye didn’t tell us anything.” He sighs and clenches his jaw. “If I let go of you, can you not go after your brother again?”

“Fine,” I snap.

My father’s hands drop from my shoulders and I look at him expectantly.

“Why did you lie?” he asks.

“I didn’t lie,” I shrug. “We’re not having sex.”

“That’s not what your mother claims to have heard this morning.”

“What?” I ask, horrified.

“Come on,” my father says unhappily. He grabs my shoulder again and leads me back into the living room where my mother still sits on the couch, chewing on the inside of her cheek, her eyes trained on the wall.

“Rhoda? Tell him,” my father instructs.

I watch my mother steel herself and swallow her anger before looking at me, but when her eyes land on me, they are still cold and unforgiving.

“I had to stop home this morning,” she begins cooly. “And when I did, I heard.. you two in your bedroom.” She finishes her sentence with a disgusted scoff, causing me to break eye contact and drop my gaze to the floor guiltily. “Do you have anything to say?” she asks bitingly.

I keep my eyes on the floor as I try to think of something I could say. Any excuse to get them to believe that something else was happening, but I can’t think of anything. I remember how loud we were this morning. Our careless moans must have pierced through the hall, unmistakable to recognize.

“No,” I finally answer, shame and embarrassment coursing through my body.

“I don’t want her here anymore.” I open my mouth to argue, but my mother puts her hand up to silence me. “And I already called her mother and informed her of what you two have been up to.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I say scathingly. This time, without my father to stop her, my mother jumps up from the couch and steps toward me.

“Peeta! Go to your room!” My father bellows. “Now!”

“Gladly,” I hiss through gritted teeth, plodding out of the living room and down the hall.

Slamming my bedroom door behind me, I stand in front of it and listen to the shouting match that has started between my parents since I left the living room.

_“Why would you tell her mother?!”_

_“She has a right to know what her daughter has been doing!”_

My mother’s tone is icy, but there’s something in it that also sounds satisfied.

_“Are you trying to keep them apart? Rhoda, he is seventeen years old! If he wants a girlfriend, he should be allowed to have a girlfriend!”_

_“He can have a girlfriend, but she won’t be in my house. Not after they both defied our rules right in our own home, and then he_ lied _to us!”_

I hear my father groan exasperatedly seconds before another door slams. I can’t make out the direction it came from, but I’m willing to bet that my mother is on her way back to the bakery and will probably be there through the night. It’s the typical pattern when they fight.

My thoughts immediately drift to Katniss. Did she experience the same embarrassing interrogation as I did? I grab my phone and send a quick text, knowing better than to call right now.

**_“Park tomorrow. 10am.”_ **

I ignore my father’s shouts for me to come have dinner and spend the evening sketching and staring at my phone, waiting for Katniss to text back.

I fall into a restless sleep, waking almost every hour to check my phone for a reply, but it never comes.

XXX

It’s 9:30 in the morning when I get to the park. Katniss never returned my text, so I’m here on blind faith, hoping she’ll show up.

I make the mistake of letting my mind wander while I wait. What if she doesn’t want to see me anymore? What if she thinks what we’ve started and gotten ourselves into is a mistake and suggests we try to go back to being just friends -- or worse -- nothing at all?

The sound of a car honking breaks me from my thoughts. I whip around and spot Katniss’s car pulling into the parking space next to me.

I wave her over to my car and unlock the door, waiting as she situates herself and exits her car. I heave a sigh of relief. She showed up.

Katniss slips into the passenger seat of my car and looks at me with sad, nervous eyes.

“My mom said you can’t come over anymore,” she blurts out.

“Mine said the same thing,” I say, starting my car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” Katniss asks.

“Away from town for today,” I begin. “To the other park.”

“Why?” Katniss questions. “Are you trying to hide from your mother?”

“Yes,” I admit.

“Peeta...”

“She didn’t say we couldn’t see each other, but I’m afraid that if she were to catch wind that we were together right now, she’d change her mind,” I explain.

“She wouldn’t do that. Would she?”

“You don’t know my mother,” I say, laughing bitterly.

And she doesn’t. In the three years I’ve known Katniss I can count on one hand the amount of times she has been around my mother, and just about all of them have been when Katniss has stayed for dinner. I don’t talk about my mother much, the same way Katniss doesn’t talk about her father. It’s much easier not to.

“She’ll need a few days to calm down before it’s safe for us to be seen in town together,” I add,  ending the conversation..  

The drive to the newer park outside of town is silent. I try to rehearse in my head what I’ll say when we get there, but when I pull into the parking space and turn my car off, all of the words seem to leave me and I find myself fumbling over words, grasping desperately at the few things that are still floating through my mind.

“I still want to see you,” I say hastily.

“I still want to see you, too,” Katniss replies, though she looks confused. “I mean, we’ll see each other at school, right?

“I can’t kiss you at school,” I remind her, leaning in to kiss her neck. “Or taste you. I think I’ll go out of my mind if I can never taste you again,” I whisper.

Katniss sighs loudly, curling her fingers through my hair and guiding my head upward toward her lips.

“What are we going to do?” she asks, sadly. “I feel like this is my fault.”

“It’s not,” I assure her, resting my forehead against hers. “We’ll just have to be clever about where we meet each other, that’s all. We have our cars, we have our park. It’s almost always just us there.” I kiss a line across her jaw up to her lips. “Not like here.”

The reminder that we’re surrounded by people makes Katniss pull away from me. She sets her palm flat against my chest, ensuring I keep my distance.

“This makes it feel wrong,” she mutters.

“Don’t say that,” I plead.

“I can’t help it.” She wraps her arm around the back of my neck and brings my mouth down to hers again, kissing me with desperate force. “But I need to see you,” she whispers. “I need you.”

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.” I cup her head in my hands, and Katniss’s eyes flutter closed when my thumbs come up and brush her cheeks.

“Can you take me back to my car now?” She asks shakily. When she opens her eyes, I can see tears have begun to gather in the corners.

I want to question her. Ask her why she wants to leave when she doesn’t have to work until this afternoon, but I can see that wouldn’t be a good idea right now. I sigh and nod, letting go of her face.

Our ride back to Katniss’s car is mostly silently, only interrupted by the sound of Katniss’s light sniffling that she tries to keep me from hearing. The urge to pull the car to the side of the road and comfort her is strong. I need to promise her again that everything will be ok and that we’ll get through this, but I know that will only make things worse, so I spend the rest of the drive keeping my eyes glued to the road, acting as though I don’t hear Katniss crying right next to me.

“Text me when you finish work?” I ask when I drop Katniss off by her car.

“Okay,” Katniss says, noncommittally. She leaves my car and closes the door before I get the chance to say goodbye, leaving me to wonder if that text will ever come.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated. You can also find me on Tumblr -- mellarksloaves.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I want to take a minute to apologize to everyone who has been waiting for an update. It has been getting increasingly difficult to write at work, so that takes a lot of the writing time I used to having away from me. At the moment, I am only able to write at night after work and on the weekends. In addition to that, It Begins In Mystery is not the only thing I am working on right now, so my update schedule may not be as consistent as it has been in the past. Thank you all for your patience and interest in my stories. Hopefully a 10,000 word chapter will make up for how long it has taken me to get this written. Please enjoy!

I can tell I’ve reached my arms out too far before I have time to stop myself. My legs lift off the ground in a hurry, and the walls of the school gym spin, causing my vision to blur until my back forcefully comes into contact with the cold mat and I’m left staring up at the bright, fluorescent lights that buzz loudly above me.

“Mellark!” Coach Abernathy shouts seconds before he’s looking down angrily at me. It’s bad enough having to hear him grouse and complain during math class every day, but it’s even worse now that he has taken over as wrestling coach and I have to hear him during practice too. “You need to get your head out of your ass and into practice! Tournaments are soon, and we can’t have one of our best suddenly off his game.”

“Sorry, Mr. Abernathy. It won’t happen again,” I say apologetically, picking myself up off the mat.

“Damn right it won’t!” Coach Abernathy barks. “Go again! Remember the strategy we worked out last week. And it's _Coach_ Abernathy during practices and matches.”

“Right," I nod, rolling my eyes.  

The temptation to call him an asshole under my breath is strong, but I wouldn’t be the first to try it, and I am sure I wouldn’t be the first he’d overhear. Detention is the last thing I need right now.

If he weren't such a good coach, I would question how he even landed this job in the first place, but he does seem to know what he’s talking about. He has even come up with strategies and moves that my brother hadn't been familiar with. Some say he's the only reason we have a chance in these tournaments. Up until he took over, we've never even been contenders.

I set my feet and ready myself, determined to focus on pinning my opponent this time, but before Coach Abernathy can even blow his whistle, my mind has wandered once again to Katniss. I've never had trouble focusing on wrestling before, and I’m sure the change is noticeable.

Normally, as soon as I walk into this gym after school, wrestling is the only thing occupying my thoughts. Today, however, it's Katniss. She has not been acting like herself since I dropped her off at her car yesterday, and it’s that and my worry over what it could possibly mean that infiltrates my mind.

Her texts last night were brief and nothing at all like what they usually are. After a handful of short replies, she sent a final text telling me that she was tired and was going to bed early. I didn't hear from her again until I caught up with her in math class this morning, and even then she was somewhere else entirely, so lost in thought that she continually asked me to repeat myself every time I said something to her. During lunch, she asked me to repeat myself three different times. Eventually I just stopped talking, too frustrated to even bother anymore.

I’m brought out of my thoughts quickly when my body is slammed against the mat for the second time in one practice. I clench my jaw angrily and exhale loudly through my nose, frustrated with myself for being unable to focus on wrestling because my mind is too clouded by thoughts of Katniss and my worries that I'll get a message from her at any time telling me we've been making a big mistake.

"DAMMIT, MELLARK!" Coach Abernathy's bellowing voice echoes through the gym, causing everyone to stop what they're doing and look in my direction. "Get up off the mat, go shower, and don't come back for another practice until you're ready to put in a little effort!"

I push myself off the mat and storm off toward the shower without saying a word, too afraid of what I may say in frustration to even chance opening my mouth.

The locker room is dark and quiet when I enter, giving me time to shower and dress in peace, free of the shouts of the rest of the wrestling team. I take my time, letting the warm water pelt my shoulders in hopes that the frustration I’m feeling because of Katniss and Coach Abernathy will lessen.

I don't even realize how much time I’ve wasted until I begin to hear the yelling and chattering of everyone else growing closer and closer, indicating that practice has finished and they're filing into the locker room to shower and change as well. I shut the water off quickly and wrap my towel around my waist, eager to get out of the way.

With my head down, I navigate through the crowd, hoping that nobody will try to talk to me. All I want to do is get dressed so I can get the hell out of here.

"Hey Mellark!" The sound of my friend Finnick's voice stops me in my tracks.

"Odair," I reply, sighing audibly.

"What was going on out there today, man?" Finnick asks. "You looked about as interested in wrestling as I am, and I know that isn’t true."

Finnick is actually a swimmer. Up until the beginning of the current school year, he was the captain of the swim team, but that was before the school decided to get rid of the swimming program when budget cuts started. Now, to occupy himself, Finnick joined the wrestling team and spends more time making it known that he could care less about it than he does actually wrestling, but also refuses to quit. He says it keeps him out of trouble.

"Just some personal shit, but I don't want to talk about it, ok?" I say pleadingly.

"Alright, I can respect that," Finnick nods, slapping me on my bare shoulder. "Just make sure you leave that shit at home tomorrow, I don't want old man Abernathy's head to explode."

“Yeah.” I attempt a laugh, but it falls flat. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Finnick lets me continue on toward my locker, and to my surprise, nobody else even bothers to look my way as I move through the crowded locker room.

When I pull my locker open, I spot my phone sitting on top of my clothes and grab for it. Even though I don't expect to have any message from Katniss, I have to check anyway.

My stomach drops when I see her name on the screen.

_This is it. This is when she tells me that whatever is going on between us is over._

Against my better judgement, I open the text message right in the middle of the locker room where anyone can look over my shoulder and read the rejection themselves, but I can't wait until I'm out of here. I have to read it now.

**_"At the park. You should stop up after practice if you can."_ **

It isn't what I was expecting, but the relief that floods my body is short lived. What if she wants to tell me in person that she wants to go back to what we were before we lost control? I refuse to allow myself to feel happiness when I may be facing yet another difficult conversation in just over a forty-eight hour period.

I finish dressing as quickly as I can and run my fingers through my damp hair before I shove my phone in my pocket, grab my backpack, and jog out of the locker room in the direction of the school parking lot, ignoring the questions that are being shouted at me in response to my hurried exit.

Ten minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot of the park. I spot Katniss right away,  propped against the front bumper of her car with her arms crossed over her chest watching Prim play with Buttercup in the grass. My feet seem to pound against the asphalt even louder than usual as I make my way toward her.

“Hey,” I say almost cautiously when I reach her. I’m still not sure why she invited me here. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about what she’ll say next.

“Hey,” Katniss returns meekly, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

We stand against Katniss’s car as silence quickly falls between us, staring straight ahead at Prim who appears to be in an entirely different world. She beams down at the orange cat and cradles him in her arms, just as she did the last time we were here. A light chuckle escapes my mouth at the sight of it.

“Aren’t you afraid she’s going to bring home fleas?” I ask. “That cat is kind of mangy.”

At the sound of Katniss’s laugh, I take a chance and glance in her direction. The smile I am met with sends a warmth through my body that I haven’t felt in days, and it’s only now that I realize how much I’ve missed it.

“I make her shower as soon as we get home,” Katniss replies, setting her gaze back on Prim.

“Good thinking,” I deadpan. “I can’t believe he stays when she holds him like that. It’s like he actually believes he belongs to Prim.”

“I think he does belong to her at this point,” Katniss says with a shrug. “I’ve never seen anyone else take care of him the way she does. I think she’d die for that cat.”

When I’ve run out of things to say about Buttercup, the silence returns immediately and we are back to watching Prim who is now dangling a blade of grass in front of Buttercup’s face. I’m surprised when the cat reaches his paws up to swipe at it. Prim’s laughter echoes through the park, causing Katniss to shake her head.

“The only time I remember that she’s just twelve years old is when she’s playing with that cat,” she says, breaking the silence.

Curious, I ask the question that has been on my mind since Saturday.

“Does she know what’s going on?”

“Yes,” Katniss sighs. “I don’t know how. I never told her anything about us, but she knows. She was also quick to remind me that  being unable to get a hold on my emotions and taking it out on you isn’t very fair.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

“After we got home from school she came into my room and started questioning me about you,” Katniss starts. “It was like she knew that something was bothering me, even though I didn’t say a word to her about any of it. It was her idea to come here and invite you. She’s keeping herself occupied right now so we can _talk_.”

I struggle to grab hold of what I’m feeling. On one hand, I’m grateful for Prim’s perception and ability to convince Katniss to reach out to me, but on the other hand I’m hurt to learn that if it weren’t for her, Katniss probably never would have taken the initiative to invite me here at all.

“Then we should probably start talking,” I say, dispirited. “What was going on today?”

I watch Katniss’s face contort as she struggles to find her words. Exhaling loudly, she finally turns to me.

“I know you told me not to say it, and I don’t want to, but I can’t stop thinking it,” Katniss stammers.

“What?” I ask, urging her to continue.

“I still feel like we did something wrong, Peeta. Like we’re still doing something wrong.” Her tone is distressed. I’m brought back to our conversation yesterday and am suddenly overcome with guilt over not letting her talk about it then. Today could have been avoided if I had just let her talk to me, and if it weren’t for Prim, who knows how long this could have gone on.

I sigh and run my hand through my hair, knowing that we won’t be able to move past this unless we’re honest with each other, even though the truth is that I didn’t want to be honest yesterday.

“Well,” I say reluctantly. “We _did_ do something wrong.” Katniss’s eyes grow worried. I don’t think she was expecting me to say that. She opens her mouth to speak, but put my hand up, cutting her off. I’m not finished. “We broke the trust of my parents and your mother, sometimes while she and your sister were right there in the same house. We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yeah...” Katniss mutters, looking down at her feet.

“We got caught up and got ahead of ourselves, and that _was_ wrong.”

“I think we need to take a few steps back,” Katniss suggests. “Start over again.”

“I think so too,” I agree, nodding. “That would be good for us.”

Katniss looks up to check on Prim, then focuses her gaze on the trees in the distance before speaking again.

“I really do love how you make me feel when you touch me,” she admits. “But maybe sometimes holding hands is all we need.” She looks down and picks up my hand, quietly lacing our fingers together and squeezing tightly.

“And maybe a walk around the lake,” I add, smiling at her. I push myself off the car and pull her toward me, gesturing for her to take a walk around the water with me.

The silence that falls between us this time is comfortable, and I can feel the tension in my body slowly melting away with each stroke Katniss’s thumb makes across the top of my hand as we walk.

“Holding hands is nice,” Katniss says, breaking the silence.

“It is,” I admit, swinging our arms between us. “Taking a walk with you is nice.”

“It is,” Katniss says, mimicking my tone. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to touch me anymore,” Katniss blurts out. "It just doesn't have to always go there."

I roar with genuine laughter for the first time in days, shaking my head at Katniss’s blunt approach.

“Good,” I say between chuckles. “I was hoping not.”

We move nearer to the water and sit down in the grass together, keeping our hands linked. With a quick glance at Prim, Katniss looks me in the eyes, her expression serious.

“Did you mean it when you said you thought we’d be good together? As more than friends?” She questions. “Because I think this is more than just fooling  around now, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” I say, attempting to sound nonchalant. “Do you want it to be?”

She doesn’t answer right away. I stare at her, so fixated on the way her shoulders rise and fall with the labored breaths she is taking that I almost miss her nod of affirmation.

“Same,” I concur, smiling. I reach out to rub her shoulder, letting my hand snake up the side of her neck then stop so I can brush my thumb across her cheek. “I have for a while.” Katniss nods as though she knows what I’m talking about, catching me by surprise.

“Same,” Katniss repeats assuredly. “Too bad we messed up and I can’t have my boyfriend over for dinner now.”

Hearing Katniss call me her boyfriend sends a jolt of excitement through my body that is uncontrollable.

“Is that what you consider me?” I ask, still shocked. “Your boyfriend?”

“You don’t?” Katniss asks nervously.

“No, I do.. I mean..” I stammer, trying to find the best way to approach this. “I just agree with what you said. This is more than just fooling around. I just wasn’t sure that you were ready to put a label on what this is just yet.”

“Well,” Katniss says, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready when you are.”

“I’m more than ready.” The smile on my face is probably embarrassing, but I revel in this moment as long as I can before it’s tamped out when I remember there’s something else I need to talk to her about.

“I hate to ask, but I have to know,” I say carefully. “How mad was your mother on Saturday?”

“She didn’t sound mad, really,” Katniss says with a shrug. “She sounded hollow, like she usually does.” I can hear the anger rising in Katniss’s voice already, and I begin to regret even asking. “Like she was going through the motions.”

In the last few years, I’ve learned that the topic of Katniss’s mother is a sensitive one for her. Normally, I wouldn’t even ask about it, but since this is partly my fault, I felt like I had to.

“I’m not even sure that she truly cares if you come over. I think she said it because she felt like it was what she was supposed to say,” Katniss explains, shaking her head and looking away from me. “You know I used to see the school counselor when I was in junior high, before you moved here?”

“No, I didn’t know,” I admit. “You never told me that.”

“I started going to talk about my father, but most of the time we just ended up talking about _her_.”

“What kind of things did you talk about?” I ask gently, silently appreciative that she's choosing to share this with me right now.

“Most of the time it was about how she could almost forget about her children at home, but go back to the place she and my father both worked at without issue. How she could take that same route that killed him every single day, but she couldn’t seem to gather the strength to come in and say goodnight to her daughters. That was something she did every single night, but after my father died? Nothing.”

“That must’ve hurt.” I stop myself in fear that I sound uncaring and let Katniss continue.

“I just want my father back,” Katniss says numbly. “I wish that things could be the way they were before he died.”

“I know.” I pull her hands into mine, willing her to look at me.

“And now I have to leave the house to even spend time with you,” Katniss continues. “Like we committed a crime because we wanted to be together. I hate being there now. Some days even Prim isn't enough to get me to want to stay home.”

“We’ll see each other as often as possible, ok?” I promise.

“Ok,” Katniss nods, giving me a sad smile.

“Summer is coming, that’ll give us more time to make plans and go places. Maybe we can take a trip to the beach,” I suggest.

“That’d be nice, I haven’t been there in a long time.”

“I’ve never been there,” I say.

“You’ve never been to the beach?” Katniss asks, dumbfounded.

“What is this about the beach?” Prim’s voice breaks in, forcing us to turn our heads in her direction.

“I was just telling Katniss that we should take a trip to the beach this summer. You could come along, too. We’ll make a day of it,” I explain.

“I can’t swim, though,” Prim says. “Dad never got to teach me like he taught Katniss.”

“That’s alright, I can’t swim either,” I assure her. “We can just spend the day making sand castles and eating junk food.”

“So I have to swim alone?” Katniss asks, feigning annoyance.

“Maybe Prim and I can get some floaties to put on our arms,” I smile.

“I like that idea,” Prim says, nodding. She turns to walk away, but stops abruptly. “So you guys are ok then?”

“Yeah,” Katniss smirks at her sister. “We’re ok.”

“I’m glad.” Prim waves once, and heads off in the direction of Buttercup, leaving me and Katniss alone once more.

****

The sounds of yelling wakes me up from a deep sleep. This isn’t unusual. I’m woken up by my parents fighting at least twice a week, but it doesn’t get any less jarring. I attempt to drown out their shouts, but when I hear Katniss’s name, I stop and listen.

_“Peeta needs to know who’s in control here. It’s not him. TJ and Rye weren’t allowed to have girls over, if you recall.”_

_“This is different, Rhoda, and you know it.”_

_“Oh, right, because Katniss had to be the first friend he made in a new town, and I let you talk me into letting her come over here because we had to move and uproot the family because of me. How many more times are you going to throw that in my face?!”_

_“You know if they’re not having sex here they’re going to find somewhere else to do it.”_

I can tell my father is trying hard to keep his voice even and not resort to shouting like my mother usually does, but he's failing fast.

_“Then let them!”_

My mother’s words come out in a hiss, and I hear what I can only imagine is my father’s hand slamming against the kitchen counter, his resolve finally worn down.

_“You couldn't care less about what they’re doing or if they’re being safe, could you? All of this is because you want to remind everyone in this house that you make the rules! It has nothing to do with Peeta or Katniss.”_

_“They broke our trust! And for who knows how long. I won’t allow that girl in my house again. End of discussion! Now, if you’ll let me leave this house so I can open up the bakery._ Late _, mind you, since you wanted to have this conversation_ again _.”_

I don’t hear my father’s reply before my mother slams the front door so hard that it causes the house to shake around me.

What I just heard makes me angry all over again. I understand that I did wrong by my parents and I did break their trust. It’s exactly what Katniss and I talked about a few days ago, but what my mother is doing has nothing to do with making sure I understand what I did wrong and that I learned my lesson and everything to do with her power trips. She’s never around, and I’m sure she could care less what I do as long as it isn’t under her roof. The only thing she cares about is making sure that it’s clear that she calls the shots.

When I hear my phone vibrate next to me, I assume it’s Rye texting to ask if I heard this week’s battle. I’m surprised when I see Katniss’s name on the screen.

**_“I miss you,”_** her message reads.

Despite what I said last Monday about seeing each other as often as possible, outside of school, we haven’t seen each other in a week. Wrestling has taken over a huge portion of my free time after school as we prep for tournaments, and on the days I do get done early, Katniss has been working. It’s like there is always something preventing us from spending time together.

**_“Why aren’t you sleeping?”_** I send in return.

**_“I just told you why. What about you? Why aren’t you sleeping?”_ **

**_“My parents were fighting. It woke me up.”_ **

**_“Oh. I’m sorry. Are you ok?”_ **

**_“I’m fine. I’m used to it.”_ **

**_“Oh.”_ **

I’ve never really talked to Katniss about my parent’s marriage, or lack of marriage, before. I imagine that she is at a loss for words right now, but before I get a chance to apologize for dumping that information on her, she sends another message.

**_“Meet me at the park.”_ **

**_“What? Right now?”_ **

**_“Yeah. I want to show you something.”_ **

**_“What about the cop that patrols the area after dark?”_ **

**_“Still have your bike?”_ **

**_“Yes...”_ **

**_“Meet me at the corner just before the park. By the stop sign.”_ **

I have to laugh at Katniss’s eagerness to sneak out of the house before dawn. Before I get out of bed to get dressed, I can’t resist asking a question.

**_“Does this still feel wrong?”_ **

Katniss’s reply comes in faster than I expected.

**_“No. I want to see my boyfriend. What’s wrong with that?”_ **

I smile down at my phone. She gets it now. I send my last message quickly and head for my closet.

**_“Nothing at all.”_ **

I move through my dark room as silently as possible, hoping my father doesn’t realize that I’m awake at four in the morning. When the sound of the bathroom fan starts, I sneak quietly down the hallway and slip out the side door. It’s still completely dark, but I’m just able to make out my bike in the open garage.

It has been a long time since Katniss and I have gone anywhere on our bikes, but the familiarity is still there as soon as I start pedaling in the direction of the park. The stop sign at the corner of the street used to be our meeting point, and I smile to myself when Katniss comes into view, perched on top of her bike, leaning against the stop sign while she keeps lookout for the cop that circles the block. She turns around and points a flashlight in my face when she hears my bike approaching.

“Careful with that thing!” I laugh, greeting her with a tender kiss. “Thank you for getting me out of my house.”

“It sounded like you needed it,” Katniss says, running the back of her hand across my cheek. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, I promise,” I reply, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Great now, actually. Since I’m with you. What did you want to show me?”

“Oh, right!” Katniss says grabbing my hand. “Follow me on your bike.”

She begins pedaling as soon as she drops my hand, and I follow behind her without question. It doesn’t take long before Katniss is slowing down and pointing to an area of the sidewalk that looks more like a driveway that has been covered by the overgrowth of the woods.

“Here it is!” She whispers, just loud enough for me to hear. She disappears with her bike into a patch of bushes that is just a touch thinner than the rest, and I follow behind, hissing in pain when a branch whips back and smacks me in the arm.

“What is this?” I ask, confused.

“I found this place last year after I first got my license,” Katniss explains. “As long as I’ve been coming here, I haven’t seen anyone else in here, but I think I may have been an old path from back when people used to hike in these woods.”

I take in my surroundings and notice the paved path underneath us. It’s just barely wide enough to fit a car, and surrounded by dirt and trees. It is clear that this used to be some sort of path that is no longer used by anyone.

“You’ve been hiding this from me for almost a year?” I ask, bewildered.

“Sorry,” Katniss says, shrugging apologetically. “Sometimes I just needed a place to be alone to think. Somewhere that nobody else seemed to know or care about.”

“What did you come here to think about?” I ask.

“Sometimes my parents, sometimes Prim, but mostly you.”

“You thought about me?” I continue to question. Katniss nods, confirming that for all the times I sat around alone thinking about her, she was probably here thinking about me.

“Usually it was about what it would take to get you to realize how I felt about you,” Katniss confesses, looking away from me in embarrassment.

“That’s funny,” I laugh, bringing Katniss’s gaze back to me. “Because most of the time I thought about you, it was about how sure I was that you felt nothing for me at all.”

“That is pretty funny,” Katniss agrees, but she’s shaking her head at me, a bemused expression painted across her face. “You really had no idea?”

“Not really,” I shrug. “Was I supposed to know?”

“Well, I tried to give you signals,” Katniss says. “You’re usually so good at noticing stuff like that.”

“I definitely think I missed those.” Katniss looks away, as though she is embarrassed to learn that her attempts to get my attention went unnoticed. I can’t let her think that. I may not have picked up on her signals, but I definitely noticed her. “But maybe that’s because I was too busy trying not to kiss you.”

“Really?” Katniss asks.

“Really,” I confirm. “A lot of the time, when you’d talk, I’d focus so hard on your lips and think about how badly I wanted to kiss you that I didn’t hear what you said, but I couldn’t tell you that. At least I didn’t think I could.”

“You could have,” Katniss murmurs, grabbing my head with both of her hands and pressing her lips to mine.  The kiss is gentle and unhurried, but still holds the same hunger as the frantic, secret kisses we’ve been sharing these last few weeks.

I pull back and look into Katniss’s eyes and am met with a look of contentment. It’s a far cry from the nervous, sad expression that plagued her a week ago. Pleased, I smile warmly and run the back of my hand across her cheek.

“Your birthday is soon,” I say. “We should do something.”

“Like a date?” Katniss asks, a smile spreading across her face.

“Yeah, like a date,” I affirm. “Maybe dinner? Where would you want to go?”

“What about here?” Katniss suggests.

“Here?” I repeat.

“That way it can be just us.”

“Alright,” I say reluctantly, thinking things over. “What’s your favorite food?”

“I don’t know,” Katniss shrugs. “I like subs a lot.”

“Subs?” I ask dryly. “You want to eat subs on your birthday?”

“What did you think I was going to say sushi or some gourmet shit?” Katniss scoffs. “I like subs.”

“Alright,” I laugh, relieved to see that Katniss seems to be returning to her old self. “If the birthday girl wants subs, we will get subs. I can pick them up after school and meet you here. Sound alright?”

Katniss nods, satisfied with the decision.

“Should be an interesting first date,” she jokes. Suddenly, she looks up to the sky and puts her hand in the air, palm up. “It’s starting to rain,” she says, sadly. “We should probably go.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Thanks for showing me this place.”

I lean in and press a quick goodbye kiss to her lips before we both turn our bikes around and leave our new hiding place just as the sky opens up and rain begins to pour down on us as we go our separate ways, back to our homes.

The rain only seems to get harder as I pedal my bike through the streets as quickly as I can. It doesn’t keep the rain from soaking through my clothing, chilling me to the bone.

Even though my father’s car isn’t in the driveway when I finally make it back home, I still find myself slipping through the front door quietly and pull my soaked shoes off of my feet, dropping them on the tile floor.

I pad up the hallway as fast as possible, but stop abruptly when I hear Rye laughing in the kitchen.

“You’re a mess,” he chuckles, shaking his head at me. He leans against the counter, a bowl of cereal in one hand while he stuffs a spoonful of Frosted Flakes into his mouth with the other. “Were you with Katniss?”

“I’m cold, I want to go shower,” I say icily, narrowing my eyes at him and scowling.

“Hey, don’t take this out on me,” he says defensively. “I kept your little secret. It was _you_ that couldn’t keep it yourself. Just how loud were you being that day, anyway?”

“Shut up!” I bark, clenching my fists at my sides. I don’t need to be reminded of my mistakes right now, not when I’m struggling desperately to keep hold on the good feelings that came as a result of my time with Katniss. Between the rain, having to come back home, and now Rye’s ribbing, I’m losing my grip on those good feelings very quickly.

“What’s going on with you, Peeta?” Rye asks, his voice laced with both anger and concern. “I saw you fucking up at wrestling practice the other day.”

“I had other things on my mind,” I say shortly, trying to turn to leave the kitchen.

“Katniss things,” Rye says, stopping me in my tracks. “Look, I know you’re angry, but don’t take this out on us, Peeta. Dad is actually trying to convince mom that it’s ok for your girlfriend to come over, even after you were busted fucking around. I was never allowed to have girls over, so stop acting like the pampered little shit that you are.”

“I’m _not_ pampered,” I hiss.

“Maybe not, but dad definitely caters to you,” Rye says bitterly.

“Yeah, well maybe if you and TJ...” I stop short, in no mood to have this same old argument again. “You know what? Forget it,” I say, throwing my hands up. “I’m not having this conversation with you right now. I need to go get ready for school.”

Rye shrugs and drains the milk from his cereal bowl, dropping it into the sink before reaching for his book bag on the floor and hoisting it over his shoulder.

“Just cut dad some slack, alright?” Rye adds as he makes for the side door. “And mop the floor before you leave. You made a huge puddle.” Without another word he turns and leaves.

Maybe part of what Rye was saying was right. I should cut my father some slack. It’s not his fault that this is happening -- it’s mine. The more I think, the more I realize that Rye has every right to be bitter that Katniss was even allowed here in the first place. The only way he and my oldest brother TJ were able to see girlfriends was by doing the same thing Katniss and I are doing now, but that’s beside the point, because I know my mother forbidding any of us from having girls over isn’t because she’s a caring parent who wants the best for us.

The clap of thunder that blasts through my open window calls my attention to the fact that it’s still wide open from when I was asleep. Rain water drips from the windowsill and onto the carpet, soaking the area.

“Shit!” I curse under my breath, running to my closet and grabbing a towel. As I make my way across the bedroom, I glance at my clock, realizing quickly that I’m going to be late for school no matter how quickly I get ready.

How could a morning that was made so much better by Katniss get ruined so quickly? The brief period of relief that I felt when I was with her was short lived, and now I’m back to reality where finding time to see her outside of school has become more difficult than I anticipated.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the knowledge that in three days, Katniss and I will get to spend time together on her birthday.

What I didn't expect, though, was that it would rain for those next three days and threaten to ruin our plans.

The storms were relentless, with torrential downpours that barely let up and periods of thunder that were so loud it rattled the windows. This morning, I was certain that Katniss and I would have to change our date plans, but it finally stopping around lunch time. Even though the sun still hasn't been able to break through the clouds, at least things can proceed as planned.

“Thank God it finally stopped,” Katniss says, stepping off the curb as we leave school for the day. “I thought we were going to have to build an ark.”

“Yes, finally,” I reply, relieved. “So I’ll meet you at the park in an hour?”

“Yeah, I just have to go to the junior high to pick up Prim and get her dinner, then I’ll be there,” Katniss smiles. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to wrestling practice first? I could just come back here and we could go to the park together after it’s over.”

“No,” I shake my head. “It’s just practice, I won’t be missed. Besides, I have stuff to do before the park.” I smile at her teasingly.

“No presents!” She warns, pointing her finger at my chest. “I already told you I don’t want a present.”

“No presents,” I repeat, nodding in understanding. We part with a chaste kiss and I move to my car quickly and duck in, speeding off toward the store before anyone on the wrestling team has a chance to come looking for me.

An hour later, I pull my car into the small, hidden space Katniss showed me the other day, cringing when branches fly back against the sides. Katniss is already here, but all I can see is the back of her head from where she sits perched on the hood of her car.

When I exit my car, grocery bags in hand, I step right into the mud that surrounds the small path. My foot sinks in, and I have to pull it out carefully, hoping my shoe doesn’t get stuck in the process. It’s impossible to avoid it with our cars parked on the path. There is just enough room for the car and nothing else. It wouldn’t be so bad if it hadn’t just rained for three straight days, but if the only thing I have to worry about today is a little bit of mud, I’ll take it.

“Did you get Prim all situated? I ask, walking carefully on the lip of the path in attempts to avoid the mud, but my foot slips off and I land right back in it anyway.

“Yeah,” Katniss says, cringing when she looks down at my feet. “Sorry about your shoes. I should have warned you it was all mud here after it rains.”

“It’s fine. Your feet don’t look much better,” I observe, laughing at her mud covered sneakers. “You could have brought Prim, you know.”

The truth is, I’m glad that Prim didn’t come, but part of me still feels guilty that she’s at home alone right now while Katniss and I spend time together here. The look Katniss gives me as she shakes her head tells me that she doesn’t want Prim here either, today. Her hand comes up quickly and fists my t-shirt, pulling me in for a deep kiss, welcoming my tongue after I drag it along her bottom lip.

If we don't stop now, we will go too far, too soon. Reluctantly, I pull away before I begin to unravel, determined to bring the focus back on dinner.

“Are you hungry?” I whisper against Katniss’s lips.

“Mmhmm.” Katniss leans in and rests her forehead against mine. “Where did you get the subs from?”

I smile widely and give Katniss one last peck on her lips before I move away and place the grocery bags on the hood of her car.

“Well, I did something a little different,” I begin. “Instead of just going to Subway or something, I went to the grocery store and bought stuff so we could make our own subs.”

“No you did not,” Katniss says in disbelief, laughing as she peers inside one of the bags.

“I did! That bag has the lunchmeat,” I explain, pushing her hand away when she goes for another bag. “That one is for later, you can’t see what’s in there yet.”

“I told you no presents, Peeta,” Katniss admonishes.

“It’s not really a present,” I say, smirking. “It’s for both of us, but let’s eat first. Those ribs they served in the lunchroom today were fucking disgusting and I'm starving."

I hop up on the hood of Katniss’s car and wait for her to join me, chuckling to myself at the suspicious look she gives me before she settles in next to me.

“Now you’re going to have me wondering what’s in that bag the whole time we’re eating,” Katniss says, irritated.

“Good,” I say. “Everything is exactly as it should be. Now, what do you want on your sub? Turkey? Cheese? Ham? Mayo? You name it, I got you covered.” I shove a third bag toward her that is full of small packets of condiments.

“Where the hell did you get these?” Katniss laughs.

“Stole them from the bakery,” I shrug. “They have them available to people who order those bagel sandwiches my dad always talks about at the dinner table.”

In the end, Katniss stuffs her sub full of both ham and buffalo turkey, provolone cheese, and finishes it off with a packet of mayo. I do the same, but add horseradish instead of mayo. We stay on the hood of Katniss’s car and eat our subs in a comfortable silence. Even with all of the mud and awkward positions we have to sit in to make sure our food doesn’t slide off the car, I know this is better than any restaurant we could have gone to. I just hope Katniss feels the same way.

I observe Katniss silently after she pops the last bite of sub into her mouth and wait, hoping she'll offer some sort of sign that she is enjoying herself. When she doesn't, I clear my throat to get her attention.

“How was your sub? I ask, nervously, suddenly wondering if I've done enough to make the day special for her. “If you didn’t like it, there’s still time to go somewhere...”

“No,” Katniss shakes her head. “I loved it. Thank you for doing this.” She reaches her hand up and begins to play with her father's necklace, and for the first time I feel like I have the nerve to ask her about it.

“So what is that on your necklace, exactly?” I question, squinting in attempts to get a good look at the pendant around her neck.

It’s round and appears to have tree branches nestled inside. From three of the branches is a small stone that dangles.

“The stones are me, my mother, and Prim’s birthstones,” Katniss explains, allowing me to get a closer look. “I bought it for my father when I was eight years old.” She laughs a little to herself. “It’s only now that I see that it isn’t the most masculine necklace out there, but even so, he wore it every single day. It was his good luck charm, he said.” She falls silent and looks down at the pendent, clutching in in her fist. “The one time he didn’t wear it was the day he died.”

“I’m sorry, Katniss,” I say, swallowing hard.

“It’s ok,” Katniss says, tucking the necklace back into her shirt. “Now I keep it on as _my_ good luck charm.”

“How has that been working for you?” I ask.

“Not so bad,” Katniss smiles. “My sister is healthy, happy, and smarter than I’ll ever be. My mother.. well, she could use a little extra luck, but she keeps food on the table. And I met this really great guy a few years ago.”

“Really?” I scoot in closer and wrap my arm around her, holding her tight. “Tell me about him.”

“Well, he’s really funny and very sweet, even if he likes to pretend like he is some big shot jock wrestler," Katniss says. “He's also the best homework partner I’ve ever had, I think. There’s just one problem, though.”

“What’s that?” I ask, nerves pooling in the pit of my stomach.

“He gets hard ons watching big cats have sex,” Katniss says, bursting into laughter.

“That’s not even a little bit fair!” I bark, unable to hold my laughter any longer. “That had nothing to do with the cats and you know it.”

“Do I?” Katniss mutters.

“You do now,” I admit. “It was because of you, Katniss. I just thought you'd be mad at me if I told you that then.”

"But you thought it was ok to let me think lions turn you on?" She chuckles.

"It seems silly _now_ ," I admit. "But at that moment I was mortified."

"I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't tell me. I really need to work on sending out signals better." Katniss apologize. "Can I tell you a secret, though?"

"Of course you can," I smile, waiting to hear what she's going to tell me next.

"Well you know how we used to always sit on your living room floor and do our homework at the coffee table?"

"Yeah..."

"If I positioned my foot just right and sat on it, it would rub against me perfectly when I moved. It felt good, but I never could figure out how to get from that point, to telling you I'd rather it be your fingers I felt between my legs." Katniss's cheeks are stained red with her admission. "So if its any consolation, I understand why you weren't able to tell me."

"You... did that?" I ask, mouth agape. I stare at her silently and wait for her to laugh and tell me she was kidding, but she holds my stare and doesn't crack a smile once.

"It didn't help at all, really," she says with a shrug. "I'd still have to go home and finish myself off with my fingers, but I always hoped you'd notice.. somehow."

"It's not as easy to tell when a girl is horny," I remind her, thinking back to all those afternoons sitting around the coffee table with her. "Wait! Is that why you were always squirming when we worked?"

"Yeah," Katniss laughs. "And you always told me to stop because it made you nervous."

"Shit. If I had known that's why you were squirming..." I stop, unsure of what to say next.

Rather than saying anything more, I tilt her head up and meet her lips, running my tongue between them until she opens her mouth and our tongues meet. As I secure her bottom lip between my teeth and bite down, my hand travels the the front of her shirt and kneads her breast through the fabric, eliciting a muffled moan from Katniss that encourages me to keep going.

Moving my hand over, I begin unbuttoning her shirt slowly, breaking the kiss to look up at her as I work, searching for signs that I’m moving too quickly. When I reach the last button, I smooth my hand up her stomach, lingering when I reach the skin between her breasts.

“Is this ok?” I ask, running the pads of my fingers up and down the soft flesh.

“Yes,” Katniss breathes, grabbing hold of my hand and guiding my fingers over the front clasp of her bra. I take the hint and bring my free hand up to help open the front of her bra.

As soon as the tension on the bra is release and the sides fall free, I dip my head down and kiss a trail from the center of her chest and over the swell of her breast until my mouth finds her nipple and I take it into my mouth, nipping at it with my teeth.

“I’ve missed this,” Katniss moans, arching her back and grabbing onto the hair at the back of my head, running her fingers through it fervently.

She groans in protest when I pull my mouth away from her nipple, but it dies in her throat when I begin to lick a line up her throat and cover her mouth with my own, teasing her with a deep kiss.

“You like your nipples teased?” I breathe, pressing lighter kisses to the corners of her mouth. Now that our feelings for each other are out in the open, I’m not afraid of scaring her away anymore, and I’m anxious to see how she responds to all of the things I’ve been wanting to say to her. She nods hurriedly and tries to push my head back down so I can continue, but I resist. “I want to show you what I got for us, now.”

Katniss drops her hands to my shoulders and looks up into my eyes searchingly.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Hang on,” I say, running my thumb over her bottom lip. “I need you to do something for me, first.” I snake my hand down between us and swirl my finger around her nipple before pinching it. “Take off your clothes, and go lie down in the backseat of your car.”

I help Katniss slide off the hood of her car and watch her make her way toward her backseat, laughing when she curses at her feet getting stuck in the mud. I follow behind her shortly after and notice Katniss’s clothes discarded on the floor of her car, muddy shoes and all.

“You’re quick,” I say, smirking when my eyes land on her naked form in front of me. “And beautiful.”

“Shut up,” Katniss says, embarrassed.

I shrug and drop down to my knees, ignoring the cold sensation of the mud as it begins to saturate my jeans almost instantly. I grab her ankles and pull her closer to me, throwing her legs over my shoulders and begin to kiss her calves, working my way up between her thighs.

Sliding my hand up her stomach, I stop when I find her nipple again. Katniss arches up, pushing herself into my hand eagerly as I begin to roll the hardened nub between my fingers, listening to the different sounds she makes when I squeeze it.

The further my mouth moves across the inside of Katniss’s thighs, the more she squirms underneath me, anticipating the moment when I finally reach her center.

“You’re extra eager today,” I observe, looking up at her and smiling. “Did you miss this?”

“Yes,” Katniss nods, reaching out to caress my cheek.

“What did you miss?” I ask.

“How you seem to know exactly where to touch me. And when,” Katniss answers, gasping when my fingers slip between her folds to graze her clit lightly. “Just like that,” she breathes, still writhing underneath me.

After working her for several minutes, showering the insides of her thighs with kisses while my fingers tease her clit, I move down and slip my fingers through her wetness and pull away. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the small bottle of lube I bought at the store earlier and hope that she’s ready for what I want to try.

“Is that what you got for us?” Katniss asks, looking at the bottle.

“It’s a little different than the one you’ve used on me,” I explain, popping the top open and drizzling a small amount of the liquid onto the tips of my fingers, making sure they’re fully coated. “Just lie back and let yourself to stay relaxed,” I murmur, reaching up to rub her thigh with my free hand.

Slowly, I begin to push two fingers into Katniss’s center. Between the lube and how wet she already is, I am able to slide them in fairly easily, stopping only once to make sure she’s not uncomfortable.

“How does this feel?” I ask.

“Better than it usually does,” Katniss says.

“What about now?” I curl my fingers and graze the tips against the top of Katniss’s walls. She sucks in a sharp breath and grinds against the palm of my hand.

“Even better,” she whimpers. “And warm.”

“That’s the lube,” I say, chuckling. “I bought the warming kind.”

“I like it,” Katniss replies, smiling down at me. "Keep going."

Silently, I move my head back down between her legs and continue to kiss her thighs while beginning to work up a slow rhythm with my fingers. Pushing them in, then pulling back while curling my fingers up, making sure that my fingers stroke her upper wall every time I pull back.

Katniss’s hands tangle in my hair when my mouth finally covers her clit. The gentle sucking, along with my finger’s ministrations have her producing deep gasps that start from low within her stomach, replacing the soft mewls that she was making earlier. I use her noises as guidance, sucking harder on her nerve and pushing in with my fingers more firmly.

I ignore the chill that is running through my body from kneeling in the cold mud and circle my tongue around Katniss’s nerve, continuing to pump my fingers in and out of her. My hair is wrapped so tightly around her fingers, that the force she is using to keep my head in place begins to hurt, and I have to work extra hard not to try to break free when she tightens her grip again.

“Peeta,” Katniss gasps, crossing her ankles behind my head to secure me in place even more. “I’m so close, Peeta. Don’t stop.”

Her words, and the sound of my name on her lips gives me the resolve to keep going despite the pain in my head and uncomfortable chill that is taking over my body.

More determined than ever, I take Katniss’s clit into my mouth and suck while swirling my tongue around it at the same time. I begin to press on her upper wall harder with the tips of my fingers, and it’s not long before I feel her legs lock around me as her hips lift from the seat. Her walls pulse around my fingers forcefully when her orgasm claims her.

She pulls my head away from her as her spasms continue and I watch in awesome as her body girates, almost as if it's beyond her control.

“Shit,” Katniss says, laughing as she struggles to catch her breath. “How did you figure out how to make that feel good when I couldn’t?”

“A lot of reading on the internet,” I reply honestly. “I’ve been wanting to try it for a while now.”

Katniss removes her legs from my shoulders and sits up, cradling my head against her chest.

“You’re shivering,” she says.

“It’s kind of cold in this mud,” I admit, sheepishly.

“Get out of the mud then and get in here with me!” Katniss bellows, pulling my head from her chest and forcing me to look at her.

“I’ll get your car all dirty,” I say.

“I don’t care,” Katniss shrugs. “I’m going to dirty it when I drive home, anyway. Get in here with me.”

I crawl into the backseat with her and she curls up next to me, resting her head on my shoulder and sighing contentedly.  

“So, how was your birthday?” I ask.

“Way better than last year,” Katniss says. She leans up and kisses me, smiling when she pulls away. “Thank you. You look like you enjoyed yourself, too.” She reaches down and cups the front of my jeans, squeezing once before trying to undo them.

“No, Katniss.” I grab her hand, halting her movement. “It’s your birthday, and that was for you. You don’t have to do anything in return.”

“But what if I want to?” She asks.

As difficult as it is to refuse, I don’t want to take any of the attention off of her today.

“It’ll just make next time even better,” I explain. “I just want today to be for you, ok?”

“Ok,” Katniss nods, planting a kiss on my neck. “I bet that warming lube will feel good on you, too.”

“I bet it will,” I say, groaning at the thought of it.

“Don’t use it without, ok?” Katniss asks.

I nod in agreement, pulling her even closer to me.

“Happy Birthday, Katniss,” I say, kissing the top of her head.

A few minutes pass, and I almost start to think Katniss is asleep until she begins to stir, lifting her head up to look at me.

“I don’t want to go home,” she says sadly.

“Either do I,” I sigh, knowing that no matter how badly we don’t want to leave this place tonight, we’re going to have to -- soon.

****

When I get home a little while later, I leave my muddy shoes at the door and begin to walk toward my bedroom in large strides.

“Dinner is soon,” my father says as I pass him.

“Not hungry,” I reply, quickly.

“Peeta, wait!” My dad calls. I stop and turn, waiting for him to speak. “You’re filthy.”

“I was at the park,” I say shortly, but remember my conversation with Rye earlier this week. “It’s all mud there from all the rain,” I explain further.

“Did you get to see Katniss today?” My father asks. He sounds genuinely concerned, and there’s a look on his face that is almost hopeful that I’ll say yes.

“Yes,” I say. “It’s her birthday today.”

“Oh,” my father says, the tension palpable. He looks down at my muddy clothes again and clears his throat. “Well tell her I said Happy Birthday.” I start to move in the direction of my bedroom but stop when my father’s arm grabs my shoulder.

“What, dad?” I ask, my anger rising. “I’m cold and I’m tired, can I just go get changed?”

“In a minute, but I feel like I have to say this since your mother doesn't seem to care,” he starts. The bitterness in his voice shocks me. “Are you two being safe? Are you protected?”

“Dad,” I grouse. My father looks at me seriously, and I know I have to answer. “We have condoms.”

“Good,” my father says awkwardly. “Alright, go get dressed. I’ll keep a plate of food for you in the microwave in case you get hungry later.”

“Thanks dad,” I reply, grateful that he's letting me go so quickly. Finally, I head to my room to gather fresh clothes before heading to the bathroom.

I peel off my muddy clothes in a hurry and wash myself off quickly in the shower. The warm water relaxes me more than I thought it would, and I can feel my eyelids getting heavy. As soon as I fall into bed, I doze off as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I’m disoriented when I wake up. Glancing at my phone, I notice that it’s after one in the morning, and there are three texts from Katniss. I have to read them three times before the sleep has cleared from my brain enough that I can understand them.

**_“Thank you again for a nice afternoon.”_ **

**_“Did you figure out the math homework yet?”_ **

**_“Nevermind. I got it.”_ **

I completely forgot about homework. I hop off my bed in a hurry and rifle through my book bag, but my binder is nowhere to be found. I must have been in such a hurry to leave school before anyone on the wrestling team came looking for me, that I forgot to take grab my binder with all of my homework in it.

Quickly, I text Katniss back to explain what happened. I hope she doesn’t think I was ignoring her.

**_“I am so sorry. I fell asleep as soon as I got home and just woke up. I forgot all of my homework in my locker, so I won’t get any of it done. Glad you figured it out, though.”_ **

When my phone goes off less than a minute later, I know instantly that Katniss was probably waiting for me to answer.

**_“You can copy my answers down in the morning, that’ll at least take care of math and keep Mr. Abernathy from blowing a gasket.”_ **

Mr. Abernathy. _Shit._ With or without homework he was going to blow a gasket as soon as he saw me anyway because of the way I skipped wrestling practice without even so much as a bad excuse.

**_“Thank you :)”_ **

**_“Hey, you did the same for me once, right?”_ **

The anxiety of knowing I have to walk into school in the morning without any homework weighs heavily on my shoulders. I certainly won’t be sleeping any more tonight. After several more texts, I tell Katniss to get some rest and let her go, wishing more than ever that she were here with me.                                                                                      


End file.
